


Erlebnisse

by lunarinsanity



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-22
Updated: 2014-11-14
Packaged: 2018-02-05 16:59:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 24,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1825579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunarinsanity/pseuds/lunarinsanity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adrian Beirne couldn't say he was content to live in District 6 all his life, between the poverty, harsh work environment, and the totalitarian government watching you at every corner, but it's more favorable than being chosen as Tribute for the Hunger Games.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ties

**Author's Note:**

> **Erlebnisse**  
>  (n.) the experiences, positive or negative, that we feel most deeply, and through which we truly live; not mere experiences, but Experiences.

Pale light illuminated the grey area, a heavy sigh emanating from somewhere under the pile of blankets on the opposite side of the room. Another sleepless night, another unwelcome morning. Getting up was done with sluggishness, an unfriendly breeze coming from a hole in the corner of the window making him wary to leave the warmth, and once he set his feet on the floor he regretted it, as the tile floor was so cold it shot up his veins like a bullet. Outside the familiar sound of marching boots chased away any signs of grogginess still clouding his vision. If the adults were already on their way to work then he would have to leave soon as well.

The familiar morning routine began. Brushing the hair and pinning it in its usual place, wiping down the skin and watching with curiosity as dirt and flakes of skin washed down the drain, and putting on his baggy work clothes. Eating breakfast was a rare thing, but on this day it was required. There was going to be a physical checkup, and he rarely ever passed if he didn’t eat first. 

While waiting for the food to heat in the pot on the stove he fiddled with his glasses, wiping them with a cloth and fixing the shape of the wires. When it was done he ate without really tasting it. There was nothing to taste in the wiry meat and brown egg mixture, and so he plugged his nose and slurped down big spoonfuls. After washing up he put on a thick jacket, and Adrian Beirne walked out to join the masses in their procession.

Him and a bunch of other kids marched to a steady beat, passing by drab buildings with peeling paint and chain link fences sectioning off the houses in threes. Rusted pipes, like a serpent’s body, wound in and out of the ground, leaking who-knows-what onto the yellow grass struggling to grow in the limited patches of soil peeking through the concrete. People too old to work sat in their rocking chairs covered in white blankets and watched with glassy eyes as the workers droned on. Many buildings had huge patches in the roofs or the walls, allowing anybody who walked by to see feet shuffling around or the occasional person hanging from a rope. In the distance there was a deep rumbling that was felt rather than heard. Up above them a flying machine whirred past, on the ground big trucks mowed about, and men in white ran by while shouting orders into their mouthpieces. The sky threatened to open up and release another flurry of snow on District 6. 

Complaints about the cold were useless and blown away by the wind. The group huddled close to be shielded from the bite. Adrian kept quiet even though he was addressed by others acting like they were the best of friends. Teenagers had an annoying need to talk. Their words were empty and their brains just as so. There was nothing mutual between them other than their economic situation and job, and besides, he preferred to listen for the telltale bouncing of his friend Sophie and her cousin Aaron’s heavy footsteps.

“Adrian!” A light voice to his right caught his attention as said friend hopped over beside him, splashing around with her big black boots and struggling to keep up with his fast pace. He almost didn’t notice Aaron to his left until Sophie chirped a greeting at the redhead. Adrian turned his gaze to meet the taller male’s green eyes.

“Yo, Adri” he said with a grin. Adrian waved a little but flinched.

The cold wrapped its ugly jaw around Adrian’s fingers and he had to put them in his jacket pockets to keep him from being bitten off. “On today of all days you two are still as chipper as ever. Why am I not surprised?”

Brunette hair swayed from side to side as Sophie bounded ahead of them and turned to walk backwards so she could talk to her friends. “’Cause we’ve got all the luck in the world, Adrian! We never get picked!” Adrian froze, his eyes widening and looking to the sky. The kids behind him grumbled as they almost knocked into him, a wide berth being given to the trio so traffic could keep moving. Sophie threw her hands up in the air and waited, grinning when nothing came. “See? No getting struck by lightning, no earthquakes, no Capitol planes flying overhead and dropping bombs.”

The raven-haired teen sighed and shook his head with a mirthless smile. “I implore you to not go jinxing yourself.”

Aaron smirked and wrapped an arm around his friend’s shoulder. “Don’t be so superstitious, Adri. You’ll go giving yourself a heart attack!” he said with a booming laugh. Pale blue eyes glared at the taller male.

“Excuse you. I would not like to be picked as Tribute this year.”

The redhead gave Sophie a look, and they burst into giggles. Adrian simply kept quiet and fidgeted with the lint inside his jacket pockets. They rejoined the regular stream of troopers and continued the journey to their destination.

Past steel blockades and monstrous machines loomed a grey building pumping thick, black smoke into the air at all times; the factory. It was the heart of District 6, what raked in the limited resources the Capitol so graciously provided. It was here that adults and kids alike spent sunrise to sunset toiling away in the boiling hot steel room, stifling, smelly rubber rooms, or the assembly room, where every twenty people had to build one vehicle in three days and if your group didn’t they wouldn’t get a lunch break for three days. The building was like a second home to the sixth district kids, the sight of it a comfort. To one boy however it was just that, a building filled with people doing mediocre jobs. He’d gotten so used to seeing the lackluster giant that it didn’t really register in the back of his mind anymore.

Adrian clocked in and put on his helmet and gloves, picked up his hammer and walked into the steel room. The other two were almost always on rubber duty, so for the most part he didn’t talk to anybody and just worked alone. Luckily for him the group from this morning had finished pouring the liquid steel into the shaping disc and so all his group had to do was pull it out and use their hammers to bend it into the shape they wanted. Not very efficient, as there were mechanical arms in different parts of the factory that could do the job much better, but it gave everybody a sense of purpose. The group gathered around the furnace where the metal had been left to simmer in a tongue of fire. Carefully they lifted it out inch by inch onto the cooling rack at the end of the giant’s mouth and began to hit it with their hammers to make it easier to roll. Heat rose in waves out of the furnace and snatched all moisture out of the air, leaving the atmosphere cracked and sizzling. Sweat dripped down Adrian’s neck and stained the back of his shirt. Now he’d have to take a bath before the Reaping. A small group of girls beside him groaned, a high-pitched whine rising to meet their own voices whenever they struck the metal, making him grit his teeth.

At some point he leaned back against the counter and let his mind wander off, eyes following the movements of a hammer in its swing and the way this one girl would just stand forgotten at the side of the group because she was too small to do anything. One of her buns had little strands of hair sticking out of it. She’d been in a rush this morning. Two guys were standing close to each other with their arms around the other’s shoulders. Bits and pieces of conversation floated in his ears, some rushed whispers and others loud and obnoxious, and Adrian caught words like “…hope there… botched Reaping” and “I bet… will be chosen this year”. A pinprick of nausea rumbled in his gut. These must be people who didn’t put their names in more than once for extra food. They must have a relatively easy life to be betting on others like it was a game.

“Beirne get back to work!” the supervisor called from inside the glass protection case one level above them. Adrian left his observation spot and went back to wailing on the large sheet of hot steel with his hammer.

A few hours of toiling away and it was time for a break. Smelly, sweaty teenagers all piled through the doorway to escape the heat, Adrian lingering behind to avoid the horrid tousling around he’d have to go through if he went with the rest of the group. He slipped quietly through the door and went to the cafeteria, where meager meals were served by an expressionless hulking woman in white. The only day anybody wore white around here was on Reaping day. Disgusting.

He located Aaron and Sophie and made to go sit with them in their usual spot at the side of the room. Their table was the only one made of wood, and while they got splinters every once in a while it was like a breath of fresh air compared to the cold steel of the rest of the room. As he sat down Sophie giggled and kicked her feet up to show off a sparkling pair of aqua sneakers with pink laces. Both men looked at each other and back at the brunette with knowing smiles.

“Where’d ya get those, Soup? Did you steal ‘em?” the redhead leered. Sophie gasped and shot up to sock him in the nose.

“How dare you! No of course I didn’t steal them! Remember all that money you guys have been helping me save? When my dad went travelling to the Capitol two months ago I gave him an envelope with all my funds and asked him to buy me something only a famous person would wear. He came back with a brand new pair of shoes!” She turned to look at the other male with a pout, and whined. “C’mon Adrian, please tell me at least _you_ like ‘em? After all they’re right up your alley!”

Blue-eyes stared into pools of chocolate, her eyes filled with pleading and his with exasperation. Adrian sighed and glanced back down at his food. Leaning onto his shoulder and picking at his food, he mumbled “I guess they’re nice. They’d look better if you had a pink ribbon to accentuate them. Like one from my collection would do nicely. And maybe a faded pink scarf too, with tight pants and a loose cream-colored shirt.”

Sophie stuck her nose up at Aaron and let her head fall into her hands dreamily. “If only I were rich. I’m telling you boys, you’ll all be sorry when I leave for the Capitol and become rich!” She hopped up onto the table and twirled around. “Just imagine me, gown and all! The whole Capitol cheering for me! Talking about my beauty! Interviewing me on talk shows!”

“Maybe if you grow a few inches” Aaron said with a loud laugh. Sophie threw her fork at him, earning her a yelp from the redhead below. She cheered and flopped back down onto her seat, wrapped her arm around the other male and stuck a big chunk of mashed gunk in her mouth. 

“Don’t kid yourself, Soup” Adrian said quietly. Sophie reeled back and stared at him with big eyes. “I’m just saying. We’re District 6 nobodies. The Capitol isn’t interested in us, no matter how much you want to believe so.” 

Crossing her arms, Sophie blew a piece of hair out of her face and looked away. “It _could_ happen” she muttered. Aaron reached over and patted her on the shoulder, whispering something in her ear. She nodded and ate her food in silence. Adrian stared at the two with an icy look but remained quiet.

Everyone lined up at the medical bay for their physical examination after lunch was declared over by the bell. Adrian and Aaron moved to stand with the males and Sophie was tugged along by her female friends over to the other side. One by one they were pulled behind the curtain, Adrian’s mind drifting while they waited. He thought of big crowds, solemn processions, and the deafening silence as a name is read out. Cold, dark, hopeless. The eyes of the victim, glassy and empty. A shiver crawled up his back and he had to snap his eyes up to stare at the back of Aaron’s shaved head to calm himself again. He didn’t allow himself to go back to that place again, instead opting to count time. It was half an hour before he was called up and disappeared behind the curtain.

White lab coat swung like a cape as the doctor turned around. His eyebrows raised. “Beirne, why is it that whenever I see you, you haven’t grown a bit?” Adrian shrugged as the doctor retrieved his medical tape from the desk and grabbed a stool to start measuring. “Well you’ve certainly gotten taller” he remarked when he finished measuring length-wise. Stepping down he started wrapping the tape around Adrian’s hips, waist, chest, and across the shoulders, all the while reciting numbers so his assistant could jot them down. Adrian counted numbers in his head as the doctor shuffled around in his personal space. “Long legs” the man muttered while he measured the leg length. When he was finished the doctor sat on his stool and pulled his glasses off to wipe them with his shirt. He motioned for Adrian to take a seat across from him. “Listen Adrian, have you been eating like I told you? You know you’ve barely grown at all” he said, his eyes staring straight into the other male’s. “You can’t fool me, I can tell whether your belly is bigger because you recently ate or because you’ve been eating all your meals. Why do you do this? Why can’t you be grateful for what the Capitol gives you? Not every district gets handouts like this.” Adrian simply nodded along even though he heard this speech every year. “You don’t know what real hunger is, not like those in the outer districts. The Capitol is our Lady and we should be thankful that they send out those shipments. Otherwise you’d be _begging_ for food and then you’d realize how much you need them. No more of this ‘not hungry’ business, all right?”

Sighing, Adrian twirled a piece of hair around his finger. “Yeah.”

The doctor clapped him on the shoulder. “Good, now get out of here and get ready for the Reaping.” 

Adrian shrugged off his hand and stepped back out. He went to join up with Aaron, who had his feet kicked up over his makeshift footstool and a cigarette in his mouth. “Don’t wrinkle your nose at me Adri, I know you hate this habit. But I thought you wouldn’t be done for a while.” He stayed quiet and just sat down, leaning his head on the redhead’s shoulder. “Did he give you that dumb speech again? Usually it’s longer. You think he’s giving up on you?” The other shrugged and pinched his nose. “Well, we can just wait for Sophie. I’m sure it’s not long for her now. The girls are moving much faster than us.”

It wasn’t five minutes later when Sophie burst from behind the curtain and hopped over with a big grin on her face. Sneering, she said, “In your face Aaron! I have gotten taller! Two inches taller, in fact!” She wiggled her bottom in his face and hummed a victory song. Aaron smacked her on the calf and moved away to laugh, the cigarette dropping from his mouth.

Adrian smiled wanly. “Congratulations Soup. Now you’re truly ready for the Capitol.”

The brunette paused in her dance, stood up straight and blushed, rubbing the back of her neck. “Whatever.” The two males stood up and went with her to go get their outside clothing hanging on the racks in the foyer. They dressed quickly, taking notice of a bunch of girls rushing to leave and threatening to block the door in their haste. Sophie simply barrelled past, whooping at being the first to leave and motioning for her friends to hurry up. 

They got outside before the others had a chance to pile through. Aaron and Sophie linked arms as they walked, Adrian content to just keep his hands in his pockets like this morning. It was warmer, the sun having broken through the thick layer of clouds, though there was still a chilling breeze that shook the boy in its grip. The two conversed quietly while Adrian tried to focus his mind on anything but the Reaping today. In the end he couldn’t keep his mind off of it. There was an apprehension in his gut that, though only a prick with an annoying sting in the morning, now was a dark, thundering cloud hovering over him and shocking him with a steady, painful voltage. Something had been wrong when he woke up. Not being able to sleep was a usual thing, but being plagued by horrible dreams when he did sleep was not a usual occurrence. He found his tongue in a vice, unable to respond to his friend’s innocent poking and prodding of his wound. How would they know of the open slice dripping pus and doubt on his thoughts? Of course they didn’t worry, their minds were too simple to understand the reason behind his superstition. The universe wasn’t entertained when everything was easy, and if one person was happy on one side of the world then ten people must be living in poverty on the other side for it to be balanced.

He shook his head. No, it wouldn’t be him, not this year, and not two years after that. There were many children in the district that were of age. How conceited must he be to assume it was him that would be chosen for Tribute? Still, he needed to get home faster than the leisurely pace his friends were going. Reflecting on the inner workings of the universe was best done in a hot shower. “I’m going to hurry home. See you guys later” he stated before turning down the road to his house. Their parting words were not heard, Adrian too withdrawn into his own thoughts to particularly care about them.

The house was silent when he walked through the door. Sounds of his feet as they padded on the tile floor echoed throughout the living room, and he stopped at the mouth of the hallway to see if his father was home. Yellow light shone from underneath his office door, almost being choked out by the darkness of the surrounding area. “Father?” he called out. “I’m home. I apologize for being late.” Silence followed after, prompting Adrian to approach the door and knock. “Are you angry at me?” He pressed his face to the door and hovered his hand over the doorknob.

He shifted his weight on his feet. Judging from the silence on the other side the other male was engrossed with drawing schematics on his strange blue paper again, a project from the Capitol to design more and more machines. “Oh, Adrian is that you? No need to apologize, I didn’t even notice you were late.”

Oh. The teen pulled away from the door, disappointment in his lowered eyes, and with slumped shoulders he slipped into the bathroom and shut the door, keeping it reluctantly unlocked. His father wouldn’t knock, open the door and apologize, and try to make this relationship better. But maybe, just maybe on Reaping day it would be different, and Jonathan Beirne would attempt to actually talk to his son, ask him about his day, his friends, his interests. Something. 

The male ran himself a hot bath, sinking to it with a drawn out grumble. He sometimes liked to imagine what it’d be like if his dad was an actual dad, like Aaron’s father who taught him how to cut wood so he wouldn’t get cold in the winter, or Sophie’s dad who sat and enjoyed all of her little drama plays. The hollow look in his sunken eyes would be replaced with warmth, like a breath of fresh air, and his flat and greying hair would be as good as new, shining in the sun. Jonathan didn’t smile, even when his wife was alive, but the brightness in his expression would be close enough. In-between scrubbing his skin and washing his hair his eyes flickered to the door and back to the water, time passing by with the ticking of the clock, further draining Adrian’s hope that his father would realize his neglect. Why was he even surprised? Why did he bother? He wondered that as he stepped out of the bath and dried himself off.

With his hair and body towel dried he stepped out of the bathroom, leaving the door open behind him, and quietly made his way to his bedroom where the bed was still as unkempt as this morning when he first got out of bed. He considered wearing white to fool the Peacekeepers into thinking he was one of the adults, but the consequences of getting caught smothered the flames of mischief in his mind. Settling for a purple striped sweater and light pants, Adrian was in no rush to get dressed, and sat on his bed to stare at himself in the mirror, but came face-to-face with a ghost who had black hollows in place of its eyes. He startled, clutched his chest and sighed heavily in relief. Whatever he’d seen in the mirror just now looked exactly like his father. The heavy shadowing over his eyes was just a trick of the light, and when he tilted his head they were back to their pretty pale blue. He flopped down onto the bed and rubbed at his face, his heart still pounding in his chest. That was enough thinking for now.

Finished, Adrian got up, took a deep breath and left. He ran into his father on his way out the front door, the man having been standing there to presumably wait for him. “What do you want?” he said flatly. The man ran his fingers through his hair and cleared his throat, shifting his weight on his feet, a puzzle piece that just didn’t fit in with the rest of the picture. Adrian put out the little light of hope in the back of his mind with a realistic perspective on the situation. The other male’s hand, which had originally been on the doorknob, was now hidden behind his back. His feet were pointed away from his son and towards the outside, and the man’s raised eyebrows and inability to look at him were proof of his guilt. Jonathan was trying to leave before his son so he didn’t have to walk with him. Hiding his hurting with a cold expression, Adrian walked past his father and out the door without a word, and didn’t even stop when the man called out to him.

Sophie’s house was just around on the next street over. Adrian caught sight of Aaron’s built frame from far back, and he quickened his pace to meet with the other male. The other’s bright green eyes met with Adrian’s, and the raven-haired male noticed, even though it was a slight movement, the twitching fingers of Aaron’s hands. “Sophie’s taking forever as usual. It’s already so late.” The redhead turned back and cupped his hands around his mouth. He called out. “Soup! Hurry up or we’re gonna be late! Do you _want_ to be turned into an Avox?”

“Sorry, sorry!” A voice came from inside, and out bounced Sophie with her three younger sisters and father. Behind them her mother, Sophie’s father’s manager, was talking into one of those devices they used for communication in the Capitol. Like a walkie-talkie but thinner, and the voice of the other speaker was crystal clear. “Mom got a call from Julio! You know, the Master of Ceremonies?” She bounded up to the two males, her hands waving wildly in the air. “You won’t believe it! Apparently they’re using my dad’s pyrotechnics for the Opening Ceremonies!”

Aaron whistled and pulled her into a bear hug, twirling her around in the air and laughing. “Wow Soup, congrats!” They both turned to Adrian excitedly. “You hear that, Adri? That means Soup’s dad is gonna get paid like, a lot! Right Soup?”

Her siblings crowded around Aaron, latching on with a vice grip. Adrian rubbed at his forehead and pulled ahead of them, wishing he was deaf in both ears so he didn’t have to hear all this shouting. Who in their right mind would be excited on Reaping day anyways? The only thing he felt was nauseous. Sophie’s father patted Adrian on the shoulder, his mustache thicker than the last time they saw each other, and Adrian could barely recognize the toothy smile underneath. “I’ll apologize on their behalf. They can get a little bit loopy over these sorts of things.” The shorter male shrugged and pulled away from the man’s grip, his clenched jaw relaxing. “Right, sorry. Again.” Bellowing laughter followed, and it took Sophie’s mother’s yelling to quiet them all down again. Passersby just glared in their general direction.

When the group got to the enrollment stations, Sophie’s parents pulled the little ones away from Sophie and her cousin. “Just like every year kids, we’ll be waiting with the rest of the parents. Good luck!” 

With the last of her light gone, Sophie quieted down and went off to join with the growing line of girls. Aaron turned and clapped Adrian on the back. “We should get going too.” Adrian pulled away from his friend’s grip and went to stand in line. People were herded like cattle behind the wall of white, and while the raven-haired male watched his stomach decided to start doing flips, stretched out and curled in then flipped again, further pushing his sense of dread up his throat.

“Name?” Adrian looked down and saw an expressionless face looking up at him.

“Adrian Beirne” he replied. A gloved hand was extended to him, Adrian handing his own over with less enthusiasm. It was followed by a prick to his finger, blood pressed to the sheet of paper, a scanner checking the identity. The masked man quickly checked his device, the beep sounding the all right, and nodded for Adrian to go forward. He stepped past the table, being swallowed by all the white. 

On the right the girls were huddled together, seeking each other’s warmth, possibly comfort, their fingers entangled and their faces close. He searched and found he could not meet Sophie’s big brown eyes, for they were staring at her feet, and she was standing alone with her hands in her pockets. Aaron took his place beside the shorter male. He too was quiet. Adrian looked up and saw the redhead was clenching his jaw so hard the strain was evident on his neck in the bulging muscles there. Tentative, he patted Aaron’s arm. Words were not exchanged by the children, only by the adults wearing white. Some of them looked grim, a few faces seemed to forget the atmosphere, as they were caught up in riveting conversation and their eyes were wide and mouths curled in a smile. Jonathan was nowhere to be found. He grit his teeth. What they should be wearing is black. His grip tightened on his friend’s arm. Even they did not speak, too afraid they’d jinx it.

Up on the stage at the front four people walked up: the mayor and his wife who went to sit down, the Peacekeeping General who stood beside them, and one person walked up to the microphone, their heels high and their head higher. They tapped on the microphone, golden bracelets jingling to greet the crowd. Everyone turned to face them in silence. Even the parents stopped talking. The only sounds still heard were the communications being broadcast on the Peacekeeper’s devices.

Clearing their throat, they spread out their arms, resembling a brightly colored bird that demanded attention, and in a singsong voice, said, “Welcome, welcome! Happy Hunger Games! May the odds be ever in your favor!” While they were probably used to cheering and clapping from other districts, they were met with walkie-talkie sounds instead. Nobody dared cheer or clap here. Seemingly ignorant of the mood, they continued with just as much bubbliness as before. “Now before we begin, we have a very special film, brought to you personally by the Capitol!” They waved to the men on the towers.

A large white screen descended beside them, essentially dwarfing them. Patriotic music began to play, Adrian rolling his eyes as he knew what was coming, and the white screen flashed to life with skulls and bodies littering the ground. Another cut to a mushroom cloud and bright explosions, crying children in the background as the narrator spoke. “War, terrible war. Widows and orphans. This was the Uprising that rocked our land.” Men with shiny helmets and carrying guns, pickaxes, any sort of metal object, marched on in the background. “Thirteen districts rebelled against the country that fed and loved them, _protected_ them. Brother turned on brother,” fighting, blood spattering the screen, Adrian yawning, “until nothing remained.” The scenery changed, now a golden field of wheat swaying gently in the breeze. “Then came the peace, hard fought, sorely won. The people rose up from the ashes and a new era was born.” People rose up with white smiles, fake smiles. Adrian couldn’t help the bile in his throat. Those smiles must’ve been painted on. “But freedom has a cost. When the traitors were defeated, we swore as a nation we would never know this treason again. And so it was decreed: That each year, the various districts of Panem would offer up in tribute, one young man and woman to fight to the death in a pageant of honor, courage, and sacrifice. The lone victor, bathed in riches, would serve as a reminder of our generosity and our forgiveness. This is how we remember our past, this is how we safeguard our future.”

The flame onstage clapped their hands together, fluffy scarf dancing in the strong wind and frills bouncing around their shoulders as they twirled around and hopped in place. “I just _love_ that part. Anyways ladies and gents, now begins the Reaping for one courageous young man and woman to represent District 6 in the 60th annual Hunger Games!” Swinging their arms, they walked over to the glass balls that contained respectively contained the names of all the boys and girls in the district. “Ladies first!” The silence was deafening as they made a big show of rummaging around for a slip of paper with the victim’s name on it. Two girls whispered to each other, pointing and laughing at the orange nest on the rooster’s head. They didn’t seem to hear it, or were just deaf to the things they heard every day. 

Finally their hand emerged with the damning slip, and they unravelled it, the ribbon falling unceremoniously, as they read out the name. “Mei-Ling Chun!” Whispering erupted throughout the crowd, a wave of gasps being belted out from a group in the middle. The girl with the light hair wrapped messily into two buns, the one he’d seen hanging back from the workgroup and unable to do anything, was spit out from the side of the crowd, and was pulled along by two Peacekeepers at her sides. She was delivered onto the stage, a shivering bundle of wool scarves and sweaters. Adrian counted four from where he was standing. “Come over here, darling! No, here.” She was tugged by the other person, and from his spot in the crowd the raven-haired male could see just how deeply their gold nails dug into the thick armor, Mei-Ling’s sweaters bulging around the other’s fingers. “Everyone, here’s the female Tribute for District 6, Mei-Ling Chun!” Adrian sighed and closed his eyes, relief washing over him, light brightening up the edge of his mind and warming his insides. Sophie was safe for yet another year.

Looking around to see every face gazing at the ground, the flame onstage was momentarily extinguished, and they put their hands on their hips with a confused look on their face. Shaking their head they seemed to be muttering something, red lips moving fast. They looked up again and smiled wanly. “Well that was anticlimactic. Let’s move on to the boys, shall we?” With their excitement deflated, they were less dramatic about choosing the boy’s name. It took less time for a name to be pulled out this time. Another slip was unravelled, Aaron patting Adrian on the shoulder and grinning at him, a hopeful look in his eyes, and the name was read out.

“Adrian Beirne.”

Adrian’s blood ran cold, and he froze when a painful stinging shot up his legs. Muscles tense, mind flickering between panicked screaming and hysterical laughing, heart threatening to just explode in his chest. His eyes found Sophie’s then. Her brown eyes were wet, and she was shaking her head while saying “No” over and over. Then he found Aaron’s, and couldn’t help searching for a place to hide in that emerald forest. Aaron’s expression changed in comical slow-motion. His brain struggled to register the name, and once he did his jaw dropped and eyes bulged out. Immediately he removed his hand from Adrian’s shoulder and held it with the other like he’d been burned. “Yoohoo, Adrian Beirne! Where is that lovely little duckling?” Adrian closed his eyes and opened them, but the horrible nightmare was still there smiling venomously at him, a predator spotting their prey.

Slowly he stepped out from the crowd. Whispers floated past him, in one ear and out the other. “Who’s that?” “Does he even live in this district?” “Sucks to be him.” The white devils grinned at him and wrapped their ugly claws around his arms, locking him in and sealing his fate. His mind, barely working, fizzed and blacked out. His thoughts were so dark and so cold that the outside winter air was like a furnace, and he was sweating and shivering at the same time. They flashed in random order, Adrian unable to make meaning of them. A dripping sound somewhere in the back of his mind, red. White bursts of flame, stars fading out. His feet stepping onto the stage, echoes like an alarm. The voice of his father, “I didn’t even notice you were gone.” A beast with white fur on its face unhinged its maw to swallow him whole, letting him drop faster and faster until his mind was violently ripped out of his hellish dream sequence into reality’s version of hell. The bird was standing there and beckoning him with their feathers. Adrian walked up to them, his eyes unfocused and glossy. He kept a short distance away from the other, afraid of being burned by the bright flames of their garb.

“Here we are, the male Tribute for District 6, Adrian Beirne!” He looked out at the crowd and spotted his friends, who just stared back at him with horror in their expressions. They resembled the ghost he’d seen in the mirror earlier, and he shivered. As he stood there, gaze flickering between Mei-Ling, Aaron and Sophie, the weight of the situation truly dawned on him, threatening to crush him beneath it and leave nothing of Adrian Beirne on this planet but a smear on the asphalt. 

He closed his eyes, letting them flutter open again when he was ready to face the crowd again. Breath. Calm down. Don’t lose your head. He breathed deeply, slowly, until the spinning world came to a gentle stop, until his thoughts settled into a logical state and came to him in a slower procession, rather than in quick bursts. His heart still beat fast, too fast, but his blood had warmed up and slowed down and was considerably less painful.

The Tributes were herded behind the steel doors the creature had originated from, mayor and wife, and Peacekeeper General all following after them. The mayor dabbed at his temple with a handkerchief while his wife fussed over how much money they were going to be spending for the screens to be placed all over the district. At the front of the group their leader ranted and raved about how this year’s Tributes were so quiet and small, nothing to look at, complaining about how last year’s were more fun and easier on the eyes, with beautiful blonde hair and green eyes, and how it was a million times more difficult to make boring Tributes attractive to sponsors. 

By this point the shock of being reaped was nothing but a tedious buzz in the back of Adrian’s mind, and he scoffed at their comments. Typical Capitol rubbish talk, nothing to get worked up over. His sleeve was tugged, and he turned to see Mei-Ling at his left side. She cocked her head and smiled into her sleeve. “I guess you weren’t listening. I just noticed that creature talks funny.” He considered ignoring not responding. After all only one of them would be coming back, if at all. She was officially his enemy starting now. But she had a good sense of humor, and he liked how she thought. Adrian’s lips curled slightly into a smile, and he too had to cover his mouth with a hand so he wasn’t noticed.

Leaning in he whispered “I’ll say. Their head keeps moving back and forth as they walk, sort of like… a bird?” The brunette snorted and covered her mouth with both sleeves, her face getting all red and scrunched up. Said bird gave them a side glance but didn’t say anything, still waving their hands about and talking about the Games from three years ago.

“Oh my gosh I will _never_ get that out of my head now!” she whispered back. He looked straight ahead and put his hands in his pockets. They looked innocent enough. Nobody seemed to notice their little conversation as they were too busy worrying about their own things.

Soon enough they were separated and taken to different rooms, each guarded by two large men in white armor. The door slammed behind Adrian as he was shuffled in. He didn’t even bother to try opening the door, but instead inspected the room’s contents. An empty dresser, a neatly made bed with white sheets, and a mirror. He fixed his hair in the mirror and adjusted his pants. A few moments of silence and he sat on the bed with his hands folded in his lap, letting his mind to wander off into his imagination.

A year could’ve passed and Adrian wouldn’t have noticed, his whole body was relaxed; shoulders slumped, eyes closed and mind clear. The nightmare of being chosen as Tribute was now simply a shadow in the back of his mind, the monster having shrunk in size when Adrian started counting time.

There was a knock on the door, and Aaron and Sophie piled in through the opening and wrapped their arms around him in unison. The brunette sniffled and pressed her nose to the raven-haired teen’s neck, and Aaron twirled Adrian’s hair around his finger. “Adrian what’s going to happen to you?” Sophie whimpered, her grip tightening.

“I can’t say” he said with a sigh. He pulled away from their embrace and crossed his arms.

“This is all my fault! I jinxed it! Even after you told me to stop I still acted like a hotshot, and look what happened!”

Adrian laughed mirthlessly and pushed some of his hair behind his ear. “I guess you can say this is karma. But is this really a punishment to you?”

The two stared at him with wide eyes. “How could you say that? Adrian you can be really heartless sometimes! Don’t you see how guilty Soup feels already?”

He pressed his lips into a thin line and looked at his hands. “I’m merely pointing out the truth. Maybe if she didn’t put on his façade every year I wouldn’t have gotten Reaped. And what about next year? When you get chosen? Will you still be so forgiving?”

The other male clenched his fists. He opened his mouth to say something but Sophie interrupted him. “Stop! Can we please not fight right before Adrian is sent off to fight to the death?” She patted her cousin on the arm, essentially holding him back. The other lowered his fists and mumbled something at his feet. The brunette then turned to the raven-haired male in front of her. “I understand you’re upset. Believe me when I say I will never forgive myself. But we don’t want you to leave on a sour note. So can you please for like, once, not be yourself and just let us wish you goodbye?” Adrian rolled his eyes. 

Sophie took this as assent and tackled him with one last hug. The door opened then, and the guard’s face was like stone as he ordered them to get out. Adrian’s friends gave him one last look. Aaron reached over to pat him on the head, and tears had welled up in Sophie’s eyes again as she reached over and gave the male a kiss on the cheek. Adrian stood to see his friends reluctantly leave the room. Aaron paused and turned to give him a look, a strange glimmer in his eye. “I’m rooting for you, Adri. Don’t die or whatever.”

The door shut and he was alone again. Adrian paced around the room, humming as he thought about the girl in the other room, and how she was probably saying her goodbyes as well. Did she have any family? If her parents hugged her, Adrian was totally sure she’d start crying. The thought of her surrounded by people who loved her was bitter, and he could taste the jealousy in the back of his throat. He stared at the door, his arms raising to wrap around himself. He envied Mei-Ling, and how her parents loved her so much, and how sad they were to see her go. They probably wished they could take her place, or maybe they were regretting having children.

And here he was, poor Adrian, his father nowhere to be found. Adrian sighed and twirled a piece of hair around his finger, the very same one Aaron had been playing with earlier. His anger was momentary, quickly simmering down to a pitiful spark. Even though his son was here and going to the Capitol the battle 23 other children to the death, even though the probability of seeing his son again was so small, his father’s brain was still wrapped around his work. It probably always would be. Adrian would bet his life that he wouldn’t even watch the Games because it had nothing to do with whatever he did in that office 24/7.

Why would he? Just to see a stranger dying on screen? What would Jonathan do when he was sent Adrian’s body? Adrian snorted, and covered his mouth to keep from laughing out loud. “How can he recognize me when he’s barely look at me for the last sixteen years?”

And that was when the weight of the situation decided to reappear on his shoulders, a set of steel clamps holding him in place and securing his legs to the ground. He wouldn’t see his friends again. Nor his father. This was the last day he would spend in District 6 ever again.

For a moment, he really didn’t mind.


	2. Race

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You only take an interest in interesting people. Adrian meets his mentor and has to make some decisions. All the while there is a shift, and though he doesn't feel it, it is there, and it will continue to turn his gears round and round.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for Adrian's dream sequence. There may be some material there that is sensitive for some people.

It wasn’t long before the white giants burst through the door to wrap their fat fingers around Adrian’s arms and pulled him out into the crowded hallways of the town hall. There were more people here than when they initially entered, bustling around him, busy like bees, their movements stifling and hot and almost suffocating him. His skin crawled whenever a body got close to him, never mind how he was ready to vomit at the hands on his body against his will, their hold on him enough to break his thin arms and crush his bones into dust.

Blue eyes followed the chaos in an attempt to distract himself from unwanted touches on his body, and he noticed the shape of their eyes and the particular way they spoke. They were all waving goodbye to Mei-Ling off in the distance, who was also being hustled past the crowd and out the entrance opposite to the way they came in. 

His gaze dropped to his feet, bitterness in the back of his throat. These were all her family and friends. So many people who’d come to see her off. His blood curdled and turned green at the thought. But there was a festering maggot in the back of his mind. Out of all these friends and family, none of them volunteered in her place. And it was with this bittersweet revelation that he allowed himself to be transported from the town hall back entrance to the car that would drive them to the train station.

The ride there was agonizingly slow. He couldn’t look outside unless he wanted to lock eyes with a white suit. He couldn’t look at the ground because he’d get motion sick. Their manager’s bright colors hurt his eyes, and Mei-Ling’s pallid face wasn’t so pleasant to look at either. At some point Adrian expected one of the people in the car to turn around and tell them who their mentor was. There were three to choose from, all known for their cold mentality and brutal murders. This piece of information was supposedly important. _Supposedly_. Then again the person that conducted the Reaping didn’t seem to know much about how the Games worked. Self-image was what they were concerned with, not tactics and survival. And considering the scene in front of him, maybe romance as well. The bird’s hand inched over onto their driver’s, but Adrian kept his gaze off of their public display of affection. The driver was silent while Mei-Ling kept on talking and talking, leaving Adrian wondering whether she understood the gravity of the situation at all. 

“And Chen, my cousin, oh h-he was really sweet. He gave me this hand knitted scarf.” She lifted the ends for Adrian to see. What he noted was not the zigzag pattern of blues and purples, because those in fact were very lovely, but the shaking of her hands and the jittery twitching of her fingers.

The ends of Adrian’s lips twitched. Hiding behind a mask of happiness wasn’t going to make the situation go away, wasn’t going to make it any less real. Why waste energy on the inevitable?

“All right my not-so-lovely ducks, we’re at the train station. There are some things you should know about the Capitol’s train! It –”

“– runs so fast and so smoothly it feels like you’re gliding on air,” Adrian interjected, “we know. After all, who do you think spent years building this? Which district was given extra rations for a whole year because of it?”

Mei-Ling’s mouth opened and closed a few times. The girl was practically shaking with embarrassment. She tugged on Adrian’s sleeve and leaned in to hide her face from the way their rooster friend’s face was twisting into a mythical creature from another dimension.

“Excuse me! How rude! I was in the middle of talking. Well! That just goes to show why I have _no_ faith in you whatsoever! You’re both primates! Dirty and pale with gunk under your nails!” They seemed to forget themselves and raved for about ten minutes, passerby giving the group suspicious looks. Though it was warranted, in Adrian’s opinion. There was this big red fluffy thing sitting in the front seat next to a man who looked like a shadow yelling at two kids in the backseat. An odd family to anybody who had no clue what happened a short while ago.

Adrian blinked, uninterested stare meeting with the heated glare of their manager. He blinked. Once. Twice. Ferocious fire meeting a thick wall of ice, there was no flinching under the golden-eyed stare. “Can we get a move on? I want to meet our mentor and discuss more important things than which one of us is prettier,” Mei-Ling sighed and opened her mouth to thank him for getting back on track, but he finished with “because we all know it’s me.”

The rooster’s golden eyes flickered with something dark, a smile spreading across their red lips, fingers fiddling with their bracelets. “Oh, I may have judged you too soon.” Sighing, they waved their hands. “All right, all right, let’s get a move on my interesting duck and my uninteresting goose!” 

The whole group got out of the car and made their way onto the platform. Sleek and shiny, the train had already been patiently waiting at the station to pick up its next set of prisoners, the stretched-out car with a giant six painted on it lined up with their parked car a little bit away from the platform. The closer they got the louder its humming got, a pleasant, jolly tune. For a moment, they stood silently and listened, hearts beating like a drum in their chests. The raven-haired teen cocked his head slightly, eyes meeting with his companion’s brown ones. She smiled nervously, fingers barely brushing over Adrian’s in an attempt to ground herself. Adrian averted his eyes and looked straight ahead. This was the last time one of them, or both of them, would see their district ever again.

“Well, this is where we part, my sweet.” Their manager turned to face the man who’d driven them there and hugged him. Mei-Ling looked on with barely hidden interest while Adrian turned his face to hide his disgust. 

Grabbing the Tributes’ arms, the rooster grinned, all teeth and no warmth, and pulled them over to the car’s entrance. It slid open, welcoming them, inviting them in, trying to make them feel at home. With a loud, echoing slam the door shut and locked behind them. It was at this that Mei-Ling let out a sob, and covered her eyes with her hands, falling against the person in-between them and just shaking.

“Poor thing. Don’t act like it’s a death sentence! Cheer up, it’s the Hunger Games for crying out loud!”

The smaller girl jolted and looked up in horror. Her eyes were accusatory as she pulled away, running out of the main room and locking the door behind her. “What? Was it something I said?" Adrian snorted and pulled away from the rooster’s grip. He crossed his arms as he sat down at the plush couch.

“Mei-Ling is afraid. It’s not so often that a District 6 Tribute wins the Hunger Games. We have only had three victors. This is the 60th Hunger Games. If we average it out we can say we have about one victor every twenty years. Do you see now why she is upset?”

“Well honestly judging by your manners and your looks of course sixth district Tributes rarely win. If you looked and talked more like the Careers…” They shrugged and flopped down onto the couch opposite from Adrian, a passive, uninterested look on their face.

It was maybe ten minutes later when Mei-Ling shyly stepped out from behind the sliding door, her footsteps soft and head kept low, eyes focused on her feet. There were no words exchanged as she sat down with her hands folded neatly in her lap, slightly leaning into Adrian’s side, his mouth turning downward into a frown at the contact. He shuffled over a bit to leave her more room to herself and to save himself some personal space.

“Are we going to learn who our mentor is by any chance?” Adrian asked with a sigh. He twirled a piece of hair on his finger, eyes tired of staring at the brightly-colored feathers of their manager.

“You are just too serious. Fine, fine, I’ll go see where she is. Hold on a second.” With a huff they stood up and stomped out of the main car in the opposite direction to where Mei-Ling had gone when she needed a moment alone. Adrian caught a glimpse of brightly colored lights and sparkling, colored drinks before the door slid shut. Coughing into his hand, his eyes fell to his lap, ignoring the piercing gaze he felt on him.

Their manager returned with a sparkle in their eyes, fire lighting under their feet as they hopped around, and a tall, sharp woman walked out in three inch heels behind them. “Ta-da! Are you happy now?”

The woman adjusted her glasses and gave the Tributes a once over before clicking her tongue in disappointment and sighing, her hand touching her forehead slightly in exasperation. She turned back to the rooster and swatted them over the head. “Would you shut up for just five minutes?” The ball of red beside her huffed and crossed their arms. “There, ugh, my goodness. I see you two have already met Toril Blobette? Dreadful, I know –”  
“Excuse me?! I object –”

“Now that _that’s_ out of the way,” she continued with a glare so cold it immediately shut their manager up, “it’s not a pleasure to meet you two, as we have regrettably had to meet because of unfortunate circumstances.” Cocking her head at them, her asymmetrical hair following the tilt of her head, dark eyes stared right at Mei-Ling, and then at Adrian. They took in everything, scanning and memorizing their expressions and mannerisms, analyzing the sensory information like one does with a book. Her lips twitched downward, but only for a second, before she was smiling.

She ruffling the younger girl’s hair and just nodded at Adrian, who was thankful their mentor seemed to have an understanding of basic personal space. “I am Cathrin Dietrich, winner of the 45th Hunger Games. I’m not sure you two were old enough to remember,” her eyes met with Adrian’s, a knowing sparkle in them, “but I was the most ruthless Tribute there, hands down. I already know both of your names of course, as I was watching the Reaping on the giant screen in my private car. Before we get down to business, I’d like to dine with you.”

She turned to walk into the room with the colorful drinks from before, hand waving at them to follow, and then disappeared behind the sliding door. Adrian walked past Mei-Ling without a word and without looking to see if she was following or not.

It was like he was transported to another world. Glass surrounded them on all sides, greenery rushing past them outside in a blur. The sun filtered in through the colored glass to give the room a soft glow, alternating between pink and baby blue, the glasses sparkling in the light and the mahogany furniture being bathed in gold. Adrian grasped at the ends of his sleeves, eyes unsure of what to focus on. Two Avoxes stood ruler straight by the dining table, poised for service, their eyes avoiding meeting the Tributes’. Plush furniture lined the table and the edges of the room. Adrian’s fingers trailed over the velvet lining, senses being assaulted by the spicy and sweet smell of the food on the table, the tingling in his fingers as they brushed against fabric that must’ve been made from the delicate feathers of an exotic bird, every single color of the rainbow in every part of the room.

“It’s beautiful” Mei-Ling whispered in wonder next to him.

Cathrin snorted and sat down with one leg crossed over the other, gemstones on her shoes shining brightly in the sunlight. “It’s only beautiful until you compete in the Hunger Games. Then you realize that it’s covering up the rotten flesh underneath.” She poured herself a hefty glass of wine and sipped on it as if she hadn’t just crushed the illusion.

Adrian sat down across from her, Mei-Ling sitting on his left. The brunette pulled out a plate for herself and heaped on the food until there was a large pile for her to eat. “You’ll make yourself sick” Adrian remarked, a growing sense of nausea beginning to surface. He looked at all this food and just wanted to vomit at the selfishness and greediness of the Capitol. Fingers twitching, he was close to covering his mouth lest he actually did vomit on the table. The endless lecture he’d have to endure though seemed to momentarily quiet the rumbling of his stomach.

“He’s right you know.” The older female looked at Mei-Ling and smiled softly at her crestfallen face. “It’s all right. Eat all you want, but not all at once.”

Toril stepped into the room with a frown on their face. “You didn’t even wait for me to freshen up my makeup. Rude.” They sat down beside Cathrin and grabbed a drumstick, ripping into it with the ferocity of a lion. “So what are we talking about, here? Did we already get to the whole ‘strategy’ stuff yet? If so, let me know so I can turn on the television.” Beside them Cathrin rubbed at her forehead. She was chewing her lip, probably to prevent herself from saying anything to make the cuckoo go on another rant.

Mei-Ling and Toril were too focused on eating to really carry a conversation. The brunette was more interested in her rice than talking about tactics, and beside Cathrin the redhead’s pupils had blown so wide their golden eyes looked black. Was the food really that enjoyable? He didn’t see the point to eating so much your stomach burst, let alone eating out of the hands of the Capitol. Adrian reached his hand across the table to poke and prod at the overstuffed chicken and the leg of lamb that covered the whole length of his arm. Nose wrinkling and eyes clenching shut, he shivered. Counting, one, two three. Deep breath. Heavy sigh. Opening his eyes he noticed the woman across from him staring, unsettling. He blinked, slowly, showing no interest, and averted his gaze to see if there was something else more interesting on the table. When he found there was nothing appetizing there he resigned himself to just taking a tiny piece of everything. He’d hate it all in silence anyways.

“–rian? Adrian!”

Adrian jumped and turned his head. He relaxed when he saw Mei-Ling pouting at him. His tight grip on his knife loosened, and he put it down, tired face looking down at his food. “What do you want?”

“You aren’t l-listening, you never do. E-even in our district y-you just stay away from everybody and ignore them. Is your head gonna be in the c-clouds when we’re in the Games?” Her nails were digging into the table, teeth clenched, eyes wide and wet. “I know you don’t wanna be here, but can you at least _try_ to… try to…! Be friendly! It’s like I d-don’t exist in your little world.” She sniffled, a few tears escaping down, staining her cheeks and leaving miserable trails behind them. Hands reached up to cover her cheeks, face falling onto the table.

Adrian pushed some of his hair behind his ear, not knowing how to handle the outburst and not caring to. Though now the food left a bitter aftertaste in his mouth and he didn’t know why. His gaze momentarily met with Cathrin’s, whose fork had paused in front of her mouth mid-bite. “My my, you’re so close. I can only imagine what kind of relationship you had in your district.”

Toril clicked their tongue and wiped their fingers one by one with a silk handkerchief, eyes closed and a smile on their face. “Like I said. So rude. They’re like animals, don’t you think, Cathrin dear?”

She made a face as if agreeing with their manager would make her ill. “I think they’re simply unrefined. They’re children, Toril. What do you expect from children who spend all their time either working in the factory or dying of disease?”

Shoving the plate away from his vicinity, the raven-haired teen wiped at his mouth and stood up. “I’d like to be excused.” Without waiting for a response he left the dining car and walked across the main car into the private rooms. The car was separated into four blocks, each block presumable meant for a different person. He tried moving the doors but they remained shut. A small sensor where a door handle was meant to be made a beeping noise, and he pressed his hand to it. A buzzer sounded. He tried another, it buzzed again. The third one also buzzed. The last remaining door slid open, the sensor glowing green.

So this was his room then? There was a neatly made bed with – Adrian gagged – white sheets to one side of the room and a giant screen covering all four corners of the wall opposite to the bed. The projection showed the movements of the outside scenery, bright yellows and dark greens passing by with no intention of stopping. One lone item sat on top of the dresser: a remote. He picked it up and flipped through the projections until he found one he liked. In front of him was a clearing, fresh mist spraying from the waterfall thundering down in the distance. A deer looked at him curiously. It munched idly on the grass around it. The pale sky was almost completely covered by the tall trees and wide expanse of leaves and foliage.

There were too many thoughts bouncing violently around in his head. It made his head hurt. Any sort of thinking now would be interrupted by these nuisances, thoughts linked to guilt and hurt and paranoia. He hadn’t done anything. It was obvious he didn’t want to talk to anybody, in fact, talking to people was exhausting and unnecessary. Mei-Ling was too sensitive. He wanted to tear at his hair. Mei-Ling and Cathrin and even Toril were not necessary in his thoughts. They were glitches in a well-developed system. A system reset was in order. As things were now he wouldn’t be able to keep a hold on himself. 

Adrian laid down on the bed and let his mind drift. Calm. Quiet. Limbs losing feeling. Heart slowing down. His thoughts slowly blanked out to white, the sounds of the forest fading to quiet static in the background. Breathing slowly, his eyes fluttered shut, and he allowed himself the privilege of sleep.

There was no telling how long he had been asleep. His eyes popped open and he sat up to take in his surroundings. He rubbed sleep out of his eyes, mind still groggy, a heavy fog set deep in his mind. Sleep was never helpful for him. His body was still burdened with weariness. Well at least he didn’t have to talk to anybody right now. By the sound of it they were having an exciting conversation.

There was a knock at the door. Adrian pursed his lips. He tried moving off the bed only for a jolt of electricity to shoot up his legs, a groan escaping his lips, and he moved his hand to massage at his thighs. All that static noise he’d been imagining in his head had now jammed up in his legs, and he was finding it difficult to get up. Another three knocks. Closing his eyes he chewed on his lip to keep from making any more noise as he slid off the bed and limped over to the door. His legs were burning by the time he recomposed himself and opened it. “What is it?”

Cathrin stood there with her arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed. “We need to talk about your little problem.” She pushed her way past Adrian and took a seat on the bed, a sweet smell following after her, and she crossed her legs and patted the space beside her, an invitation for the teen to sit down. Adrian rolled his eyes and sat close but not uncomfortably so. She raised an eyebrow, shaking her head. “Is there anything you want to tell me? I’d prefer some honesty.”

With slight confusion he looked at her, blue eyes inspecting her and trying to judge from her body language what she could be referring to. Crossed legs, a closed off sign. So this private session with her was not for asking questions but for telling her things. Back straight, so she was still open to suggestions. An interested look on her face. “Well to be frank, I don’t know what you want from me. I was chosen as Tribute for the Hunger Games. How do you suppose I should act?”

The woman laughed. “Oh Adrian, while yes your attitude is disagreeable I can’t say I personally dislike it. No, no, it wasn’t that. I’m talking about your handicap.”

Adrian cocked his head at her. Blood rushed in his ears. Fingers tensed. So that’s what all that staring earlier had been. Her observational skills must be topnotch if she was able to pick up on a secret Adrian had been keeping since he was ten years old. And he’d been doing so well up until Cathrin had noticed. Everything suddenly went deathly quiet in his ears. All at once he was calm. He simply shrugged his shoulders. Well if she knew, then she knew. It was simple. “What about it?”

“What about it? _What about it?_ ” Her eyes went wide. She jabbed a finger in his direction. “Adrian don’t you realize how _difficult_ it will be for you to hear oncoming danger? We need to somehow get this fixed.”

“Now why would the Capitol do that? What they want is the strongest to win, for natural selection to take its course. The universe decided that I was not destined to be strong, and so an explosion at the factory left me completely deaf in my left ear and partially deaf in my right. If it wasn’t the Hunger Games it would be an out of control truck, and if not that then a person with a shotgun.” Adrian scrunched up his nose. She smelled strongly of perfume.

The dark-haired woman sighed. Her age showed then in the dark circles under her eyes and the slight wrinkling at the edge of her mouth. Adrian almost felt bad for her. “If that’s what you really think, then I don’t suppose I can change that. But at least let me do everything in my power to increase your chances of winning?” Her dark eyes met with Adrian’s light ones. There was a fire burning there, flecks of determination shining through the pool of indifference. Her arms crossed in front of her, mind ready for logical thought. A sigh. “Now that I think about it I suppose you’re right. They want a show. Those with handicaps are more interesting to watch.”

“Mmhmm, I know” Adrian said, checking his nails.

“But you need to be an even better actor than before. Not everyone’s as smart as I am, but I guarantee _somebody_ will notice.” She reached over the gripped Adrian’s shoulders. He gave her an intense look, shoulders tensing. “Adrian, listen to me. This is serious. You need to accept that while there are certain times when there’s nothing you can do to prevent death, this is one way that you _can_ prevent death. Don’t just give up. All you have to do is put on a good show and people will remember you. You can’t put on a good show if you die right at the Bloodbath.”

The woman choose to stand up then. “Let’s all sit together, shall we?” She extended a hand to help Adrian off the bed. He shouldered past her, not meeting her gaze, and she simply shrugged. “All right then, suit yourself.”

Toril and Mei-Ling were seated on the couch in the main car chatting close together with their heads low and their voices lower. The brunette’s hands were comfortably placed in the other’s, and she had a strange sparkle in her brown eyes, flickering back and forth between content and worry.

Adrian approached them but sat on the couch opposite to them. He crossed his arms and legs, and that seemed to grab their attention. Mei-Ling’s face fell when she noticed the raven-haired teen sitting across from her, her head turning to face away from him. 

“Adrian, it’s so… _nice_ of you to join us again” the redhead said. Their body turned so they were directly facing the male. Adrian raised an eyebrow at their sudden friendliness. Seeming to sense the question behind the look, Toril leaned back into the couch, their arms supported by the backing of the couch. “Our dear Cathrin has somehow managed to convince me to stay for your chat about strategy and the like. According to her I’ve got some wonderful opinions that are in need of some open ears.” They flipped their hair and smirked. “I made the promise to stay quiet for the time being, but come tomorrow morning I’ve got some really useful tips.”

Cathrin leaned against the side of the couch, her hand brushing along Toril’s shoulder. “That’s right, Adrian.”

They were all on one side, and he was on the other. His fingers twitched. Blue eyes searched theirs. A quick quirk of the lips, and Adrian was sighing, hands falling into his lap. “You want something from me. You want me to cooperate, to stay for all of this, to play nice and to only speak when spoken to.”

“That’s the gist of it” Cathrin said with a chuckle.

“I suppose it is possible for me to listen. But I cannot guarantee my mouth will stay closed if I disagree with something.”

Toril leaned forward, their eyes glittering. “Adrian, my little duckling, it does not matter if you agree or disagree. We – meaning Cathrin and I – will tell you all we know. It is up to you to take it.”

Adrian looked at them and back at the hands in his lap. Something was off about the way Toril was speaking, as if they were reciting off of a paper. Or from what they heard. It was unnatural and broken, the airy quality that could only be associated with the Capitol completely erased from their voice. They sounded professional. There was no doubt that Cathrin put them up to this, taught them what to say, how to act, which position to sit in in order to make Adrian comfortable. He was uncomfortable around everybody, but right now the tingling in the back of his mind was making him more uncomfortable. “Whatever.”

“Good!” Dark hair swished as Cathrin plopped down onto the couch beside Adrian. “All right, I’m gonna make the most of the remaining daylight. Tell me a little about yourselves. Mei-Ling, do you mind going first?”

She perked up. The brunette cleared her throat and played with the stray hairs of her buns. “Well, uh, um, I’ve got a big family. Like, uh, parents, t-two younger siblings, six aunts and uncles on my father’s side, seven on my mum’s, they all have at least three children, and then some of my c-cousins have kids so uh, a lot. I’ve got a lot of family. They all love me v-very much, and uh –”

Cathrin put up her hand to cut Mei-Ling off. “Honey, I wasn’t talking about your home life. I wanted to know what you think your strengths and weaknesses are.” She rubbed at her forehead as the brunette flushed dark pink.

“O-oh! I’m so sorry I misunderstood!” She pulled her sleeves up to cover her hand. “I-I’m not very strong” she said quietly. “I can’t lift heavy things and I don’t like to fight. Making friends is kinda h-hard for me ‘cause I’m sorta shy…”

“And your strengths?”

“I don’t think I have any” she said, her gaze falling from Cathrin’s.

The older woman clicked her tongue and stood up to pace the room. Adrian’s eyes followed her movements, the tapping of her fingers on her arm, her tense shoulders, focused eyes, wrinkles in the side of her mouth. She stopped abruptly. “Mei-Ling, people will like you. You don’t take up too much space, you have no annoying opinions, and you don’t speak out of turn. You’ll make allies easily, and with a little bit of training you could learn to be manipulative and turn people against each other.” Mei-Ling looked up with wide eyes. “Yes, you won’t have to do any fighting. People, no, _boys_ will do all the fighting for you. Just bat your eyelashes and look pretty. Who cares that you’re a doormat? Use that to your advantage.”

“I never looked at it that way…” the younger said, her hands fidgeting.

“Now you, Adrian. What do you think your strengths and weaknesses are?”

He gave her a side glance. “I’m a genius with a photographic memory. Strategy, manipulation, observation, superior perception. I have it all.” Silence stretched out between them. Cathrin looked at him with expectant eyes. Sighing, he continued, “I know I am cold-shouldered because of what my only friends have told me, and I hate communicating with people. I don’t like instigating fights so I’m more likely to run away or just give up than actually fight.”

“It seems like you are in tune with yourself” Cathrin mused.

“I know myself well enough that I can describe my demeanor to those who do not know me.” A smile played at his lips. “So tell me, what do you have for me? What sort of life-saving advice can you offer to me?”

Cathrin’s eyes sparkled, and she sat down beside Adrian, her hands clasping his shoulders. A wave of nausea hit him, his stomach churning at the touch. He attempted to listen to her words. “You are almost exactly like I was in my childhood. Too smart for my own good, so smart that nobody wanted to talk to me. But I learned to be charming, to play the crowd like a fiddle. I was easily the most beautiful Tribute there, and my smile, oh my smile, it melted the hearts of any potential sponsors. So you too must learn. Oh, don’t roll your eyes at me. Mei-Ling isn’t perfect, and neither are you.”

Getting up from her seat, Cathrin stepped over to coffee table in the side of the room to pull out a packet and empty it into the machine sitting on top. “This is going to be a long process, and I need coffee.”

 

By the time it was dark out they’d spent close to four hours discussing and practicing Cathrin’s weird version of strategy. It didn’t happen all at once, and not everybody was in the room when Mei-Ling had a little talk with their mentor. Until they went to bed she’d come over and talk to one of the three.

It was later discovered that Mei-Ling had to be able to tell fifteen different and outrageous lies without messing it up, messing it up including but not being limited to: stuttering, looking nervous or like she was obviously lying, having her partner not believe her. Toril was easy to fool. Then again they didn’t have a distinguishable thought process to begin with. But their mentor wasn’t satisfied with being able to trick a Capitol socialite. They weren’t that smart to begin with. So the next test was with somebody a little more difficult. Cathrin fell for one lie. She was angry at herself for falling for it, but impressed with Mei-Ling’s progress. At least she wasn’t completely inadequate at something! Then came the hard part. The experiment was nearly impossible with Adrian, even though Mei-Ling had gotten her stuttering under control. He could pick up every little quirk that would lead somebody to believe she was lying. She’d fidget with her sleeves, twirl her hair around her finger, avoid making eye contact, kept looking to the left, and cross her arms in front of her. Even when she didn’t do anything he was still able to pick up on it. In the end Cathrin yelled in exasperation and stormed off, too tired to think anymore.

“Uh, good night you two” Toril said, yawning and rubbing at their eye. “Don’t do anything suspicious.” A wink, and then they were gone.

Mei-Ling rubbed at her eyes and laid down across the couch. For a few moments they just listened to the sounds of the outside world, their soft breathing, and little taps and clatters in the personal car. “Adrian, what was your family like?” 

A question out of nowhere. Adrian closed his eyes, a sigh escaping his lips, and he pressed back against the couch backing. This wasn’t the right time to discuss these things. It was never going to be the right time to discuss these things. She’d think this was bonding, forming a friendship that she should’ve known was going to be completely one-sided. But when he turned and his eyes met hers, pleading, slightly wet, he simply ran a hand through his hair in defeat. It wasn’t worth all the energy to deny her. “I don’t remember my mother that well.” No, that wasn’t right. “I don’t remember what she was like, but I remember her face. Every little detail. I can make assumptions based on how gentle she was with me and how she was always smiling. My father is a different story. He likes to work a lot. Very dedicated to ignoring me whenever possible. He didn’t come to the Reaping and he didn’t come to see me off. There, is that what you were expecting?”

Her eyes were wet when she stared at him. Her hand reached out to him, but he swatted it away. “Don’t. It doesn’t even hurt anymore, just leaves an unpleasant taste in my mouth.”

“Oh, all right. I wondered what happened to you to m-make you like this” she said with a giggle.

“What was that?” His lips quirked up. If you blinked you’d have missed it. “And what exactly is wrong with the way I am?”

She just laughed and rolled to face away from him. “How come you’re nice s-sometimes but mean other times? I don’t understand what I do to upset you.”

“My demeanor does not change, but rather how you perceive it.”

“I don’t understand what you just s-said, Adrian.”

He sighed and let his head fall. “It means that depending on the situation my quiet nature will make it seem like I’m listening to you, while other times it makes it seem like I’m ignoring you. In truth I am simultaneously always and never listening to you. If my ears register a sound I will hear it, but if it is unimportant then I choose not to let it stimulate any thought process.”

He heard her shuffling around. “So you… ignore me when you want and listen when you want?”

“N-no, it’s not the same thing… Oh never mind.”

He faintly registered her fingers threading through his hair and playing with it. A shiver ran up his back. It tickled. “How come you were able to pick up on all m-my lies? W-what did I d-do to make it s-so easy for you to pick up on it?”

“Your movements. You fidget too much, you don’t make proper eye contact, your expression is strained, and your body language is closed off. Plus you stutter. Get rid of that.”

For a long while Mei-Ling was silent. Even her breathing was light. A little while later, while Adrian’s legs were beginning to get restless from sitting on the floor, the brunette spoke up. “I’m going to bed. You’re making me think too hard. See you tomorrow morning.” She hopped off the couch and skipped off to her bedroom.

Adrian sighed and got up. There was no point in sitting here when there was nothing to engage his higher brain functions. He took this as his chance to explore, and got up from his seat in front of the couch. There wasn’t much in the main room. Couches, a coffee table and coffee maker, a large table somewhere in the back, and jars filled with sparkling green liquids. These were of no interest to him, and instead he pressed his hands to the window, drawing patterns across the part of the glass not obscured by curtains.

It was when he was in the middle of drawing an eye in the center of a triangle that something caught his eye. As the train was rounding a curve in the tracks, he caught sight of another train car ahead of them with the number five painted in bright yellow. His heart thrummed at the thought of the 22 other Tributes being on this train right now, all running through strategies in their head or putting in some extra physical training, all thinking of how they would kill every other Tribute and be crowned victorious. He should be doing that too. He should be devising strategies with his brilliant, tactful side. He should be mentally preparing himself for the unexpected, each scenario solved with efficient grace. He _should_ be ready to kill.

So how ironic should it be that what he should be doing was not what he wanted to do? Why fight those stronger than you? He wondered what spurred Mei-Ling to try so hard. Her family did not care about her as much as she thought, especially if none of them volunteered to take her place. They simply wished her the best of luck. She knew she was weak and would probably die in the bloodbath at the Cornucopia. It was strange, all of it. Humans were especially strange. They had the ability to think logically, maybe the one thing they had over the entire animal kingdom, and when it came down to it they still reverted back to primal instincts of survival. “What is really the difference between animals and humans, then? Are we not also animals?” he asked himself, not really expecting an answer.

But back to the matter at hand. There were eleven other train cars here, and so it was very likely he would somehow encounter another district’s Tribute. Sweat beaded at the base of his neck. Would it even be worth it to see who was going to be trying to kill him before it was necessary?

Curiosity got the best of him, and he entered past the door to the dining car and stopped at the door right at the other side of the room. He wiped all the fog from the glass until the view was clear. He wasn’t quite sure what he was expecting, but it was definitely not to see a face staring back at him from across the open space. She had presumably been in the middle of sneaking a snack from the dining cart, evident by her wide, darting eyes and all the pastries she was stuffing in her shirt. All at once she sprang into action, like she’d been shocked, and she ran off with her braid bouncing.

Adrian blinked. Was it a dream? He was cautious as he lifted his eyes again. To his disappointment there was nothing there, just a dimly lit room. He turned and rushed straight to his room.

Once he was in the comfort of the bed he closed his eyes and waited for his breathing to slow down. It was a long time before he was able to open them again to face the ceiling above dotted with little glow-in-the-dark stars. Arms raised above him, making it seem like he was grabbing at the sky above rather than at one of his prison walls. He snorted at the ludicrousness of his thoughts and turned on his side to keep himself from further thinking childish things.

Sleep did not come easy for Adrian that night. It almost never did, which is why he usually ended up taking naps in the middle of the day. That night he’d dreamt of falling. All around him was what felt like the walls of a prison, cold metal, no comfort. He couldn’t stop his fall, he knew he couldn’t, so that’s why he didn’t even bother trying. Accepting it did not provide solace and did not affect the dream world in any way. The breeze was nice, the kind of breeze you felt when you were falling, full of warmth and willing to wrap itself around you like a blanket, but it was only when it was too late and the blanket became a furnace that you realized the heat was stifling and not at all comforting. Above him there had been a faint light with a face. It looked like the face of his mother, but her eyes and mouth had been replaced by gaping black holes like what happened to his father. She was a ghost. Below him was just more darkness. 

And then came the whispering. Failure. _Failure_. _**Failure**_! He sighed and closed his eyes. He’d failed as a son. He’d failed as a friend. He’ll fail as a Tribute. At least that was one thing in this dream that he knew was real. The feeling of failure. But he liked it, liked that out of all the unreal things in his dream, this was his reality. He clung to the familiarity. The words materialized in a thick cloud of smoke that burned his nostrils when it was inhaled. He wrapped his arms around the cloud, pressing his face into it. Soon tears were spurting up from his eyes, flying upwards because of the fall, and he had to close his eyes because now they too were on fire. The skin all over his body was itching, something moving underneath. He didn’t mind, it too was a familiar feeling associated with failure. He lightly scratched at his neck.

The dreams always ended the same. A hole, or more appropriately described as an eye, would open up in the back of his neck, bathing the entire closed space in golden light. And he would see all the images painted on the wall. One on side, a human that wasn’t quite alive ripping apart a friend and dragging their entrails behind it. On the other side, a giant snapping a comrade’s spine in half. In one fire rained down on him and a group of friends. They were nothing but a charred mess by the end of it. These images were always the same, so he knew that when he reached the last set then the dream would end. But not before the feeling of _failure, failure, failure_ increased the pressure on his bones until they too were snapping, and his limbs just flapped like paper in the wind. Though his eyes were closed he could see it all. Every time his friends died it was because they associated with him. What had he done? He didn’t know.

When he woke up it was to Mei-Ling hovering above him. “Adrian?” she whispered, her trembling hand tightly gripping his shoulder. “A-are you all r-right?”

He sighed and sat up. Looking around the room he realized it was not yet light out. “What are you doing here?”

Deflated, Mei-Ling’s shoulders slumped. She pulled her hand away from Adrian’s and held it like she’d been burned. “Oh, sorry. I just, I… I was… um…” She retracted further into herself, Adrian picturing a shield forming in front of her. Quietly, almost too quiet for Adrian to hear, she whispered, “I had a nightmare.” It was then that her shoulders shook. Her face crumpled like paper, fat tears spilling onto her cheeks. She sniffled and sneezed and hiccupped and whined. Adrian moved some hair out of his face and tried to ignore the slight pang of guilt in his chest.

“What kind of nightmare was it?” he asked to try and take her mind off of her crying.

She wiped at her tears and snot, essentially doing nothing but spreading it around. Adrian’s nose wrinkled. “I dreamt I was falling. It was so dark! And it was warm at first, but then it started getting too hot and I felt like I was on fire, and I was suffocating and couldn’t scream because I was choking from how hot it was. It reminded me of being in the furnace room back at home.”

“Oh. That’s it? Mei-Ling it’s just a dream. It will never be real.” He didn’t want to touch her, but that was the most often used form of comfort. He patted her twice on the shoulder. “Cheer up. At least it’s very unlikely that you will be burned alive in the Games.”

For a minute she looked angry, but it was replaced with a smile so fast Adrian wondered if he’d even seen the anger. “Never mind Adrian. You obviously know what you’re talking about.” Her face was cleaned up more properly and then she was leaving. Before her form disappeared from his room he swore he heard her ask, “Then why do you always outlive us?”

His blood ran cold. Purely out of shock did he rub at his eyes and blink a few times to make sure he was awake. This wasn’t a dream, nothing was out of the ordinary. Except maybe Mei-Ling having a mental connection to him, but that wasn’t as weird as it was an uncomfortable breach of his personal space. He laid down again, but it would be impossible to go to sleep again after waking up so suddenly. Arms reaching above him, for the next two hours he pretended he was in space.

 

Breakfast was quiet. Toril hadn’t bothered waking up, their mentor telling them the redhead had said something about “needing beauty sleep to prevent wrinkles”. She’d scoffed and drank her tea with a patronizing look on her face, but Adrian hid his smile when he noticed the dark circles under her eyes. Their cockatoo manager wasn’t all crazy.

“All right you two, I assume you two had a good night’s rest.” Mei-Ling nodded enthusiastically while Adrian stared off out the window. “Well get prepared, because we’ve got maybe two hours at most until we are officially in the Capitol. While I will have lots of time to mentor you for the two weeks and then some that we’ll be together, a few hours more don’t hurt anybody.”

Adrian looked at the mixture of what looked like eggs, potatoes and beans on his plate and suddenly lost his appetite. There was nothing green here, only in the glass containers up in the main car, and he doubted those were anything good for him. He pushed his plate away. 

A finger twirled a piece of hair around it, pale eyes drifting off to the window on the other side of the dining room. A face flashed in front of him, big green eyes, mouth in an “o”, food in her shirt. Like a mouse she’d skittered away from the danger instead of staying to see what would happen. Curiosity was not alive in this one. But he’d seen her, one of the people who would be out to kill him and who he should be out to kill. Last night he came face-to-face with another Tribute. His interest in her was not personal, as he rarely took a personal interest in anybody. Almost none were worth it. Rather it was the way she’d reacted. On the projector at home the Careers spent most of their appearances intimidating others, looking bigger, stronger, prouder, than everyone else. She did not. She ran away. So he wouldn’t have to kill her. The other Tributes would do that.

“Earth to Adrian? Boy!” Adrian snapped out of his thoughts. He looked at Cathrin with a neutral look. “You need to concentrate! When we near the Capitol, there are going to be hordes of civilians standing there to catch a glimpse of this year’s Tributes. What they want is a show, so show them something worth paying attention to.” When she noticed Adrian’s vacant look she all but tore her hair out. She walked right up to him and pulled his cheeks apart. “Smile! Be charming! Look like a human being for goodness’ sake!”

Pulling away, Adrian grumbled, his hands rubbing at his now reddening cheeks. “I don’t smile at those who do not deserve it.”

Cathrin groaned and flopped down in her seat. Just then Toril bounced into the dining car, the biggest grin on their face, like they’d just discovered they could pull off a different color. “Good morning you three! Wasn’t last night a wonderful night?” They stopped dead in their tracks upon seeing the older woman’s exhausted face. “Oh dearie, I told you sleep was important for those gross wrinkles.”

“Toril,” she growled out, a warning to not grate on her nerves so early in the morning, “if you’re not gonna be helpful then get out.”

They crossed their arms and pouted. “Well, how rude!” The glare they received cut them off from saying whatever else they were going to say. Five minutes later and they were happily babbling with a mountain of food on their plate. Adrian and Cathrin exchanged unintentional looks every time one of them moved their head. Putting her arm around Toril, Cathrin leaned in and whispered something in their ear. The redhead looked back at Adrian and raised a brow. Then they leaned in and said something else. This continued for an hour while the Tributes looked on in confusion.

Finally Toril stood up, fire burning in their golden eyes, and they rounded the other side of the table with the movements of a feline. “Adrian, please come with me. Mei-Ling, my little goose, please stay here with Cathrin.” They turned to wink at their mentor. “Come now, Adrian. You don’t have a choice in this matter. Come on, come on!”

What could Toril possibly want him for? Although on the outside his face was neutral, he was terrified on the inside. He refused to touch anything that the bird touched. Then the two were at their room and Adrian was ready to run away. “You know, you’re very good with strangers” Toril remarked with glittering eyes. “Most Tributes are scared to death by the amount of attention they get during the Games, even from their mentors or managers or stylists! But you have a very good control over that my dear.”

“I already know this” Adrian said quietly.

“And I don’t doubt that” they replied. “But still, just because you don’t show fear in front of the people doesn’t mean you can’t show them something else entirely.” They dove into their closet, clothes and shoes flying left and right, Adrian moving to the far side of the room to not get knocked on the head.

“If you’re just going to repeat what Cathrin was saying then don’t bother. I don’t smile –”

“For people who don’t deserve it. Got it! But honey, you don’t need a smile to look fierce.” They hopped from their spot in the closet and held out a pastel pink loose shirt. Adrian’s eyes sparkled. It looked like it was made of clouds, so soft and fluttery, the lower half peppered with sparkles and the sleeves thicker than the rest of it. The gears in his mind turned. Light cream pants. Solid aqua scarf. Aqua shoes. The image was put together in his mind, and it took Toril snapping in his face to bring him back to reality. “Do you like it?”

“Why?”

The redhead grinned toothily at the intense look the raven-haired male was giving them. “Adrian, you don’t have to smile if your clothes are doing the smiling for you.”

“Won’t Cathrin be angry that you spoke against her advice?” he drawled.

“She doesn’t have to know a thing! You probably don’t want to touch anything I’ve already touched, but maybe you could give my wardrobe a try? I guarantee you’ll find something you like. When the time comes and you walk out with Capitol clothes, you’ll be the hottest topic!”

Adrian mulled this over. He didn’t have to smile for the Capitol, didn’t have to act like the people of the Capitol, didn’t have to pretend to love the Capitol and its people. All he had to do was look beautiful, which was not a hard feat. Decision made, Adrian stumbled through the mess Toril made and began his search for the perfect things to match. It didn’t take long. Toril purposefully left the things they knew the other would like in their original spots. The taller male pulled the top from their hands.

“I’ll turn around, darling.”

“I don’t mind too much” he said, shrugging and looking away. Adrian was quick in changing his clothing, and was now perfectly matching. He stood in front of the mirror and adjusted some things. Behind him Toril clasped their hands together and swooned, mock fainting. That was a little bit funny, and Adrian smirked. He flattened the pants a bit more in certain areas and did a turn. Yes, this would do nicely. “I… um… thank you” Adrian said.

Toril smiled. It was obviously straining Adrian to have to thank somebody, so they didn’t push it. Instead they opened the door and stuck an arm out. “Lead the way, Mr. Hunk. Turns out I was wrong. You aren’t a _completely_ hopeless case. Now if only Mei-Ling had a similar taste in fashion. She’s been wearing that ratty purple sweater for two days now! Who in their right mind wears the same thing for two days? The answer? A hobo!”

And they ruined it. Adrian sighed, shaking his head as he shrugged past Toril. Out in the main room Cathrin was sitting on the couch as Mei-Ling practiced strutting on an imaginary catwalk. She fumbled and tripped when Adrian approached the two women. Cathrin stood up, whistling, her eyebrows raising and arms crossing. “Look at you.” With an approving nod she sat back down again, allowing Toril to bounce beside her.

“Do you see the wonders of the Capitol? Thanks to me – and maybe a little bit to Adrian to – he went from looking like a domestic housecat to looking like a tiger!”

Adrian snorted, sitting down on the couch opposite to them. Mei-Ling fidgeted with her scarf, getting up to try her walk again, though her back was significantly straighter than when Adrian hadn’t been there. She walked in a straight line, waving and smiling at an imaginary crowd, Adrian rolling his eyes at how fake it all was. Even before he got to know her he’d be able to tell right away that the smiling was strained and the wave was so that she’d have something else to do with her hands other than playing with the ends of her clothing.

“I’ll bet Cathrin told you to imagine these people as predators who want to eat you, right? And if you didn’t smile right then they’d pounce?” 

Mei-Ling gaped, her eyes getting big. She trembled, emotionally preparing for an onslaught from the male. “How did you know?”

Adrian shrugged. “How about you drop that Capitol act and just wave as if you’re waving at your friends who have come to see you win?”

Cathrin pouted. “Well excuse me, but last time I checked the Capitol people _are_ predators. You want to look fierce, like you can rip open the jugular of all your enemies. Not like you’re going to cuddle them to death!”

Adrian scoffed. “What happened to being friendly?”

“It’s called being ‘confident’. If she holds herself up high all the boys will want what they can’t have. She should at least be able to act like she has a self-esteem. She can be as polite and nice as she likes, but if she’s too shy she won’t have the ability to talk to anybody and therefore will give the impression that she’s unapproachable.”

“But if she’s friendly it would give the same impression as her false confidence. The only difference is one is more natural than the other.”

The two stared at each other, Cathrin’s eyes sizzling and Adrian’s ice cold. Toril stepped between them and placed their hands on their shoulders. “Both of your ideas are very interesting. But why don’t we let Mei-Ling decide? She’s the one trying to win allies over, she’s the one trying to get sponsors, and she’s the one who’s gonna be fighting in the Games. Therefore it’s only fair that she decides what the best approach is.”

Adrian shrugged. Cathrin huffed. Mei-Ling spluttered and hid her face in embarrassment. “I’m s-sorry to make you two f-fight. B-but I like Adrian’s idea more… I can do f-friendly. I can’t do confident.”

Cathrin flipped her hair and stuck her nose up in the air. “Fine darling, whatever you want to do. But remember, when you’ve got no sponsors and no allies don’t blame me.”

Toril groaned, rolling their eyes and wrapping an arm around the Tributes’ shoulders, a grin unfurling on their face. “Never mind my little ducklings. Let’s see that walk again, Mei-Ling. I promise Adrian won’t say anything more on that matter.”

“I object –”

“Won’t. Say. Anything.” They stared at Adrian and made a motion to zip his lips. He sighed, pulling out of the redhead’s grip. 

While he didn’t say anything else and didn’t try to make any more comments on Mei-Ling’s catwalk, he did gesticulate with his hands for her to tilt her head more or to try a cuter approach. Eventually she nailed it, walking out of her quarters and smiling the biggest, brightest smile she could, cheeks rosy and eyes bright, very inviting. It didn’t faze Adrian, but he knew the crowds would go wild at the little girl with the round face and heart-melting smile. Even her voice was tiny. It would be enough for sponsors to take pity on her. Cathrin smiled in the background, the brunette’s smile eventually wearing away the hard shell their mentor put on.

There was a strange clunking sound outside, Adrian recognizing it as one that could mean they were stopping or they were breaking down. Maybe the universe was smiling upon them and would give them just a little bit of extra time to live. He was mistaken however, and it turned out the thumping, clunking, and hissing sounds were not for stopping or for breaking down, but for suddenly slowing down to let the Capitol get a look at the Tributes through the glass.

Mei-Ling shivered at the moment the screaming and cheering began, immediately pressing herself to Toril’s side. They looked at her with the fondness of a parent, hand petting her head, bangles jingling together. “Oh honey, there’s no need to be afraid” they said. “The Capitol loves you! Go show them how much you love them back, will you? It’s not so scary once you give it a try.”

The brunette tentatively crossed the space and pressed herself to the glass. People of every color of the rainbow cheered, some crying and fainting, others blowing kisses and throwing roses and holding up signs. Her cheeks were flushed as she waved shyly at them. One man made a lewd motion towards her. That served to make her face turn more red. She covered her mouth with her hands, oversized sleeves hanging off of her skinny wrists and flopping around. Adrian moved to stand beside her. He gave a nod of acknowledgement to the crowd, and their cheering seemed to increase 100-fold. 

Whatever they’d done had impressed Cathrin, who patted both of their shoulders. “Look at them,” she said, leaning in, “look at them and hate them. They’re the ones who made a game of these deaths. They will be the ones deciding your fate. So make sure, no matter how much you hate them, no matter how much you want to hurt them, make sure they continue to love you even after you’ve beheaded a child and held up their head for all to see. Now we’re going to go out there and we’re going to _kill_ it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow wow the second chapter took me such a long time to do. Then again it is slightly over 10k words. That dream sequence killed me. I am pretty sure there are mistakes here and there. I was just excited to post this chapter. I will probably go through and fix things if there is anything.
> 
> Fun fact, I listened to I'll Make a Man Out of You from the Mulan soundtrack a whole bunch while writing this chapter.


	3. Plastic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They've arrived in the Capitol, and it's everything that Adrian's been dreading. He meets some new people and experiences some unpleasant things. Why make a show of children killing each other?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay so here we are! Already at the third chapter. I don't really have much to say... hope you enjoy?

Despite Cathrin’s encouraging words before they stepped out from the train car, Adrian definitely did not feel like “killing it”. From below the station platform he could see hundreds, if not thousands, of faces leering up at him. Purple hair, glowing green eyes, orange lips, painted white skin. Everywhere his eyes travelled they found a new way to alter the human body. He was staring down at dolls, not at people. People did not have tiger stripes. People did not have horns or wings. People did not have spotted skin, long, curling nails, or a fluffy tail. It was a struggle to understand the colors and shapes that did not belong in a sentence describing a person.

And their smiles. Adrian shivered at how wide they were. Too white, too many teeth. He found no home there, did not see a reason to smile back with the warmth that Mei-Ling was. She so easily gave herself to the sharks. Her smile was an open wound that attracted them in swarms. Adrian saw right through them. He could see the interest in them was not innocent, but hiding ravenous intentions. Their cheering was an announcement to call others for the feast. This place was too crowded, no escape on any side. The taller teen’s hands twitched. Hairs rose from his skin in anticipation.

On both sides, and Adrian guessed down the line of the platform as well, the fifth and seventh district Tributes graced the crowds with their presence. On the right two blond tributes of similar stature stepped out, their smiles crooked and arms protecting each other like a sword and shield. To the left two caramel-skinned Tributes stood with their arms on their hips and charming smiles on their lips. The male stepped forward, held his hands high and ducked his head in mock modesty, and the crowd went wild with their screaming. A pair of panties – to Adrian’s horror – landed on one of his hands. There was something behind those bright brown eyes that made Adrian shiver. He would have to watch the male Tribute closely.

Cathrin pressed a hand to Mei-Ling’s back and nodded to Adrian for them to get down from the platform and to the security guards standing just a breath away. Toril’s bouncing red hair followed them down the stairs, the men in white seeming to notice them from a mile away because of it. They weren’t handled as roughly as in their district. It could almost be said they were being kind when transporting the Tributes and their entourage down the line and away from the screaming Capitol people.

Before they stepped inside the elevator Adrian caught a glimpse of the crowd skewing to one side of the platform. Upon further inspection he realized the Capitol was just that excited to see more Tributes. It was the District One Tributes, two brunets that were playing the crowd like a fiddle, their smiles welcoming and friendly. The female Tribute was showered in praise as she struck a pose and let her dark plaid dress flow in the breeze. While the male Tribute was slightly more modest than she was, it didn’t stop the swooning crowd from sighing more when his dark eyes met with them, as though they were gazing at the sun for the first time. And then they swept towards Adrian, and he immediately dropped his gaze.

There was a minute that he was just frozen in spot, staring warily at his feet. He’d met those eyes before, allowed himself to be comfortable in their presence. They were in his dreams. In them he’d seen hurt and fear and anger. There was no telling who those eyes belonged to, which name was behind them. Who was the District One male Tribute? Nobody important, otherwise Adrian would recognize him. But it was those eyes and that smile and the aura that violently tugged at him which drew Adrian’s interest. Why was he here?

And then he realized something – he was afraid. Afraid of what would happen should he meet them again. Would he recognize Adrian? Would those eyes appear again in his dreams, only this time to have a face surrounding them?

Adrian bit his lip while fidgeting with his sleeves. Mei-Ling gave him a questioning look but kept quiet. The rest of the elevator ride was uneventful, Toril chatting idly with the security guards every few minutes. Mei-Ling pressed her hands excitedly to the glass and watched with her big brown eyes as they sped past the different city levels. Through listening to Toril’s conversation Adrian was able to discern that they’d started out on the bottom level of the Capitol, the subway where all the trains ran below all the main levels, and they were going to the seventh level where they would meet their stylists and prepare for the Opening Ceremony chariot rides. There were ten levels in all, the tenth presumably where the President lived. He didn’t know what to expect when entering the room, so he turned to stand by the brunette and looked at the scenery as well.

Levels one through three was just machinery. Gears stacked upon gears, mechanical arms keeping a steady grip on giant weights the size of a person, steam shooting out from here and there. Some turned slowly, others spun so fast Adrian’s eyes barely picked up on the subtle changes in movement. Level four was filled with what Adrian could only describe as the “poor” people of the Capitol, the ones who cleaned grime and sludge from the piping and support beams. But they could never be as poor as those in the outer districts; their bellies were big and their teeth clean. Levels five and six were typical for a city with ten tiers. Filled with small family-owned businesses – shoe repairs, clothing fixes, hardware stores. This was probably where the “poor” bought their tools. Then the screen on top of the elevator doors pinged and showed a big red seven, and they were walking out of the cramped space into the wide open preparation room.

Porcelain dolls – no, Adrian had to remind himself, these were people he was looking at – in lengthy white coats rushed across the room, wheeling long stretchers and carts filled with what looked like cleaning supplies, some of them bringing coiled hoses while others toted colored bottles with liquid that sloshed and splattered as they walked. Adrian took a small step behind Mei-Ling, whose eyes were wide with curiosity. She turned to look at the taller male with a big smile on her face. “Do you know what they do here?”

He had a faint idea judging by how excited she and Toril were getting. Crossing his arms, his gaze followed one of the white coats into an area sectioned off by a plastic tarp. Inside there was a small Tribute being washed off, waxed, and tweezed by four other coats. He groaned and rolled his eyes. “I’m not going to like this.”

“Don’t be a big baby, Adri-duckling” Toril nudged the raven-haired teen in the side. “You might actually like your stylist.”

_Adri-duckling?_ He snorted but didn’t say anything further. It wasn’t even a minute later when two women in white coats walked up to them and ushered them away from their manager and mentor. “We’ll be waiting for you on the other side!” Adrian heard Cathrin call out behind him. What an unfitting farewell.

Inside the closed off area Adrian was gently laid on a long, metal table. He was made to take off his clothes. “Now just try to relax” a voice said from behind him. His fingers were jittery, eyebrows furrowed. Though he closed his eyes to try and tune out all the involuntary touching he was about to go through, the shuffling sounds coming from around him made his heart jump and his skin crawl. Cold, gloved fingers prodded his arms and chest. There was some murmuring above him, then more poking along his belly and legs. It wasn’t long before lukewarm water crawled up his leg and bristled brushes followed along, scraping his skin clean. The further up it went, the more his gut turned, filled with a sense of dread and a longing to wake up in his own bed. There was a point when their spindly fingers pressed to his neck, and his innards curled, burning blooming around his belly and spreading outward to his limbs. Above his hair was being washed, claws pressing into his scalp, twisting his hair around and pulling it back, and his face was being pulled apart by the white coat’s sharp tweezers. Below his fingernails were picked and pulled, legs buffered, toenails filed. More hushed conversation. Something about his legs. A comment on his complexion and how scary the rings under his eyes were.

For what felt like an eternity he laid there and was forced to remain quiet as these strangers prepared him like a pig for the Capitol’s dinner. At some point his stretcher was wheeled from under the tarp and out of the prep room. Lights flickered above him as he was passed through one hallway to another. The white coats above him spoke of how his skin would need to be evened out, as there were two large bruises around his knees that were unsightly, and his hair needed a slight trim. The nail clipping, eyebrow tweezing and leg waxing were already done in the prep room, but these two additions were his stylist’s choice. “Although she’d be crazy to not fix them” one of them said in a hushed whisper. “It’s not just for the Chariot rides, but it also makes for a pretty corpse.”

They entered a room with white walls and a clean bed. Adrian was lifted by the coats around him and placed on top of the soft sheets. They smiled at him, cheeks flushed, wrinkles at the edge of their eyes, and they strolled out of the room. His toes warmed slightly. He sat up and flexed his fingers. A heavy sense of tiredness weighed on his shoulders. Too much, this whole situation was too much. 

The door across the room opened, and he looked up to see a brunette head of hair walk in. The door shut behind her, and she stood at the door, her green eyes following an imaginary line up his body. He saw a flicker of interest there, a smile on her gold lips. In two strides she was standing in front of him with her hands on either side of him. 

She ran a hand through her hair, short locks falling back into place as her fingers combed through. The movement was mesmerizing, the teen’s breath catching at the perfect timing in which her hair stood to attention. It was beautiful. “So you’re Adrian Beirne?” Adrian nodded. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I’m Maxima Oddwell.”

He scoffed. “You’re going to retract such a statement within five minutes at most, Maxima.”

The woman laughed, a deep, rumbling chuckle, one from the throat. Almost like a purr. “How can I dislike someone I’ve heard so much about?” Adrian cocked his head to the side. “Mei-Ling talked about you like crazy.”

“You went to Mei-Ling first?”

She laughed again. “You sound offended. No, she is still being prepared. I just got excited and wanted to see her. I love girls like her, they’re so open and full of fun. Such a cutie pie. Plus her small body shape is so much easier to work with – oh wait, I feel like I’m losing your interest now.”

Adrian’s gaze snapped back to hers. “Huh?”

Something glittered in her eyes. “Let’s get down to business. You? Gorgeous.”

Adrian gave her a pleased look. She smirked and continued. “Your dark hair, and light skin and eyes are just such a good combination. That doesn’t happen too often, so you’ve already got an exotic look to work with.”

Adrian’s lips pressed into a line. His gaze fell to his hands, unsure of what to say. It felt like she was complimenting his genetics rather than him really. “That doesn’t mean you’re perfect.” Like he hadn’t heard that one before. The woman pressed a manicured finger to his knees. “These things aren’t too pretty. And your hair,” she swiped a hand through his dark locks, “it’s uneven and needs to be trimmed down.”

“Those white coats were saying that you’d be crazy not to make those alterations” Adrian said with a small smile.

An eyebrow raised. “Oh is that so? Well that’s not very nice. Still, they know me too well” she said with a quick smile. 

A nod of her head. Back to professional, working mode. Maxima took a step back and crossed her arms, the glittering in her eyes bright now, mind working. “Tell me, what does District Six usually go with?”

“For the Chariot rides? Some sort of transportation. For a few years now the Chariot outfits have been made out of the rubber in tires. A while ago they were supposed to look like the Capitol’s train.” Adrian grimaced and shook his head. “What were they thinking?”

“Hm, yes I remember those quite well. They were horrendous and made it very difficult for the poor Tributes to get any attention.” She put a hand on her hip. “I don’t think I like those ideas very much. I’m going to do something different. But I can’t decide for sure until I see you and Mei-Ling side-by-side. When I see your colors together I can think up of a theme then.”

“You seem to know what you’re doing” the raven-haired teen mused.

The brunette grinned. “Why thank you.” A moment for thought. “You seem to be the type of guy who doesn’t mind being naked in front of people, and doesn’t mind people being naked in front of him.”

“You thought right.”

“Then I’m going to go kidnap Mei-Ling from the room next door and bring her here. She’s probably done by now.” Maxima disappeared out the door, the clacking of her heels so loud it was echoing into Adrian’s room. It wasn’t a moment later when the radio sounds of the security guards’ communications devices started trickling in, and for a heartbeat Adrian thought they were going to enter his room and think something suspicious was going on, then proceed to beat him and take him away before he ever saw the Games. A mental slap. The fear was ridiculous. He was safe here. Well, as safe as he was ever gonna be, given the circumstances.

Maxima reappeared with Mei-Ling in her grip. The brunette had her arms wrapped around herself and was shivering. “Sorry Mei, I needed you and Adrian here together.” Mei-Ling was placed next to the raven-haired male on the bed. 

With a squeak she crawled under the covers and wrapped the blanket around herself. “I-I’m n-naked!”

The taller woman chuckled. “It’s all right Mei, Adrian isn’t even looking.” Mei-Ling glanced shyly at the male, and Maxima was right, Adrian wasn’t even paying attention to her. “See? You don’t have to worry. Now shush.” 

Pacing around the room, her eyes were burning now, steam practically shooting out of her ears. She’d stop, turn her head to look at the two Tributes to mutter something to herself, and then go back to pacing. This went on for an indeterminate amount of time, as Adrian had closed his eyes to lose himself to his thoughts, and Mei-Ling just picked at a loose piece of skin by her thumbnail, and both of them were too distracted to really count the seconds.

“Aha!” Maxima’s voice jolted the Tributes out of their thoughts. “I’ve got it!” She clapped her hands together. “I think you two are going to like my idea.”

Mei-Ling leaned in with interest, her hands gripping the blanket at her chest much tighter. Adrian blinked.

“District Six is the district of transportation, right? Well what was our beloved Panem’s first form of transportation?”

The younger brunette cocked her head. “A train? B-but we’ve already done trains.”

“A _steam-powered_ train” Adrian corrected. He turned to Maxima, his glacier eyes meeting the forests of her gaze, and at once he realized what she meant to do. For once the ice did not harm the evergreen, but embraced it instead. A slight smile formed on is lips. “The era in which the steam-powered train was invented had the most intense fashion revolution of all.”

“Exactly!” Maxima was bouncing in her heels. In this light Adrian noticed she had a golden skunk-tail in her hair, the same as the gold on her sparkling shoes. “Of course I’m going to make some little edits to those styles so that they have steam in them. Preferably a hat for you Mei-Ling, one that pumps out steam and makes a whistling sound. And for you Adrian…”

His eyes were intense as he stared up at her. “Can I… wear a dress?”

Maxima cocked her head to the side. “Excuse me?”

Adrian sighed, his lids drooping. His cheeks were slightly flushed. “Well you see, I have a fascination with, how do you say it, high-society fashion. I loved the style of the Victorian era. But the men’s suits were, uh, boring. Women’s dresses however…”

Maxima caught on to the male’s thought process. She nodded, though her face was troubled. “But Adrian, you’re a boy… Are you absolutely sure?”

His voice was steady when he said, “I never said I was _just_ a boy.”

She hummed and turned her back to them, hands on her hips and eyes closed. For a long time she was silent, and Adrian was starting to get the feeling that his request was too much, that he had offended her by not telling her this tiny detail. Then the brunette turned back with a grin on her face. “You’ve just given me another idea, my boy. It is not so common for Tributes to crossdress. Mei-Ling will wear a suit, and you will wear a dress. We’ll win over the Capitol with our daring move!”

Adrian smiled. The worry had lifted from his chest, and now he felt light. Mei-Ling’s grip around the blanket loosened, and then it dropped just like her jaw. “I’ve never worn a suit before!” Her gaze fell to her chest. She wasn’t adverse to the idea, but she was afraid it wouldn’t look as good as it would on a boy.

Maxima lifted Mei-Ling’s chin, a smile on her lips. “Hey now, Mei. I can see exactly what you’re thinking, and you have to stop this instant. You’ll look wonderful in a suit, I guarantee it.”

“How can you s-say for sure?” the younger asked.

“Because my team of expert stylists, and me of course, will be making your Chariot costumes!”

The three talked some more after that about what sort of colors and materials the teens were comfortable with. Both liked dark colors so it was a simple task choosing a scheme for the two of them. Styles were a different story. Adrian preferred minimalistic, militaristic designs while Mei-Ling liked girly frills and geometric patterns. Maxima struggled to scribble a design in her notebook that satisfied them both. Eventually she left the room to find a better place for thinking. “Creativity is channeled out of your brain, through your surroundings, and then back to your hands” she’d said. Then the Tributes were left by themselves. Except for the occasional buzzing noise outside in the hallways, it was mostly quiet.

“D-do you think she’s gonna come b-back?” Mei-Ling asked, now shivering. She’d pressed up against Adrian’s side at some point. He just fidgeted with the edge of the bed, her weight against him an afterthought.

“She would not just leave us here. She put too much work into designing outfits for us” Adrian said.

Mei-Ling nodded. “That makes s-sense I guess.” Her head fell against Adrian’s shoulder. It went back to being quiet. He would’ve thought she was asleep if not for the way her nose would wrinkle up and make sniffling noises once every little while. 

His eyes closed, thoughts reeling back to another place with steel walls, early in the afternoon when he, Aaron, and Sophie would eat the same lunch every single day, and their seating arrangement, table placement, and conversation starting topic was always the same. It was the sense of familiarity and consistency, the thoughts of home that gripped his mind and made his blood pound. A lump formed in his throat. Pain throbbed under his skin. His hand reached up massage his chest, the area right above his heart. Breath hitching, he swallowed and took in a deep lungful of air, then let out a long sigh. Eyes opening, he had returned to his current place in the small room.

The growing sound of tapping alerted Adrian to Maxima’s return. She strolled in with a big grin on her face, Toril’s red hair and Cathrin’s tall frame following after her. The two stylists from before, as well as two more who Adrian assumed had been there preparing him as well, piled through the door and stood behind Maxima. As judges they all stood there in front of the Tributes. All it took was a nod from Maxima and the four stylists were pulling the teens apart, forcing them into standing.

“Maxima told us what kind of theme you’re going for” Cathrin said.

“Oh yes! And I just have to say, it sounds marvelous!” Toril beamed. “You’re sure to get the attention of some really interesting sponsors, to say the least!”

“Make the preparations.” Maxima pointed out to Adrian’s knees, and to his and Mei-Ling’s hair. She gave a look for one of them to get to work on the brunette’s nails as well. “Fix them in the preparation room and then bring them back to me in Section B-6. We don’t have much time, the Opening Ceremonies are starting in the evening.”

“We’ll be waiting for you in the Ceremonial Entrance Hall on level eight” Cathrin said.

The pair were rushed off to the preparation room. Mei-Ling stared at Adrian, and he stared back at her, concern in both their gazes. A blue-eyed woman with an electric touch pulled the brunette into a spinning chair in front of a mirror, while Adrian was laid down on a steel cot by two men that were more suited for the role of beanpoles than humans. They worked to scrub and even out the skin on his knees with a sparkly, dark-colored oil, and made the last little adjustments to his hair – as ordered by Maxima – with scissors the size of his pinky finger. Beside him he saw Mei-Ling, her shoulders tense, eyes frightened, as her hair was tightly curled around a hot iron two centimeters from her face, steam puffing out and making her sweat.

Snorting, he reached over to poke her in the arm. She jumped, a yelp escaping her lips when the rod touched her cheek for a split second. “A-Adrian! I could’ve lost m-my eye!” she exclaimed, tears beginning to swell.

Adrian shrugged his shoulders. “Mei-Ling, it’s just a curling iron. It’s to make you look pretty.”

“I know that, but…” Her gaze held his for a little longer and then dropped to her lap. She sighed, her shoulders dropping. From what he could see, they were curling a few strands of hair to frame her face and then putting the rest of her hair up in a bouquet.

It wasn’t long before they were deemed presentable for Maxima. They were transported to Section B-6 then. It was a small room, no bigger than the one Adrian had said his last goodbyes to his friends in back in the district. He was genuinely pleased with how soft the dark carpet was, and all the lights hanging from the ceiling were fashioned with shiny gold. He didn’t have to squint in the glow of this room, not like when he was in the prep room, and definitely not like when he was in the cold waiting room. It was when he turned around that his heart jumped in alarm.

On all sides of the room were mirrors that stretched from the ceiling to the floor. He was standing far enough from one of the lights that his face was fine in the mirror, but behind him Mei-Ling was directly under one of them, two black voids left in place of her eyes. His eyes widened, a vision of his father and mother appearing behind her.

“Adrian?” The ghost asked, tilting its ghastly head, its jaw stretching open to reveal a toothless, tongue-less mouth. The two behind it cocked their head in the same sickly way. “Adrian, w-what are you looking at?” Its voice sounded distressed. This made Adrian snort. He didn’t know of any ghost that sounded so scared to be talking to another person. If this was how it haunted others then he had no reason to be wary of it. 

He shook his head, the apparition peeling away to reveal Mei-Ling. She stood there with her brown eyes wide and her lip quivering. Adrian ran a hand through his hair, and walked up to nudge her shoulder, a look that said “don’t worry about me” on his face. While she didn’t look convinced, she didn’t say anything else, and instead went to stand closer to center of the room where Maxima was sitting, a big sketchbook on her lap. “M-Maxima?”

For a heartbeat every movement in the room stopped, the Tributes holding their breaths and the younger stylists keeping still, as Maxima’s pencil danced along the paper, its scratching the only noise in the room. She hadn’t noticed them, her face still twisted in concentration. Behind Adrian the other four were looking on with unease. Some sort of exchange must’ve happened between them, because the beanpoles took their places beside the head stylist and simultaneously tapped her on either shoulder.

Her head whirled around, and there was a flash of anger on her face before she realized why she was being interrupted, then she was calm. Standing up, she dusted herself off and pointed a thumb at one of the mirrors, which was in actuality a door and not a mirror. “Get me my materials from the closet. Make it quick, I don’t have all day.” Adrian realized that he was looking at a door.

The other stylists scrambled to get through the closet entrance. Maxima pulled Adrian and Mei-Ling together, readjusting their positions so they were standing in the proper stance. “We’re going to be sewing these clothes while the fabric is wrapped around you.” A pat on both their shoulders, a ruffle of Mei-Ling’s hair. Then she disappeared into the back room along with the other four, and Adrian found Mei-Ling’s nervous gaze on him.

“I wonder if it’s g-going to hurt” she whispered. The other shook his head, though truthfully he wasn’t completely sure. Maxima’s smile could suggest anything ranging from excitement to anticipation to downright sadism. Her body language didn’t indicate intentions of harming them however, so he wasn’t on guard when she traipsed back into the room, her arms full of rolls of fabric and sewing supplies, all of it threatening to topple over. The other four followed, equally heavy supplies in their arms. While they were careful in setting the equipment down, Maxima carelessly dropped it in front of her Tributes.

“All right you two, stay still.”

 

“That experience was most unpleasant” Adrian said, examining the vertical lines on his mauve-colored sleeves with a grimace on his face. At this point he wasn’t sure which combination was worse: his mentor and manager, or his stylists. They all had a habit of putting their hands in the weirdest places. No respect for personal space at all. Still, as he admired himself in the mirror, he had to have some respect for his stylists. His neatly pinned back hair was elegantly tied with a light ribbon that could’ve been made out of feathers for all Adrian knew. His hands raised again to play with the curled ends. It didn’t feel like he had any hair on his head, yet there it was, raven locks as shiny and smooth as they were ever gonna get.

Beside him Mei-Ling kept giggling. She spun around in front of the mirror, another giggle slipping out as steam shot out of her top hat. Adrian was quite enamored with the three golden gears attached to the hat’s accent, the way they all turned together and how much detail was put into them. Engraved in a circle around the center were children at play. “Aren’t they s-so pretty, Adrian?” she said just as another puff of steam whistled out.

“You look dapper” he replied, a small smile on his lips. “And you thought you wouldn’t look good in a suit.”

Her face turned bright red. It clashed with the dark olive of the suit. Her voice seemed go up two octaves as she squeaked out “D-do you really m-mean that?” The brunette’s small hands ran down the side of her vest. It had become a habit. While the material looked stiff, it was incredibly soft, as Adrian found out when he himself studied the clothing in detail.

“Yes, I do believe you make a good boy.”

Cheeks darkening, Mei-Ling covered her face and shook her head. “Even though I’m small, they still used a binder. It feels weird.”

Adrian shrugged. “I guess Maxima wanted it to be as realistic as possible.”

“B-but… Oh, you’re a very pretty girl Adrian. They didn’t have to change much about the way you look.” He looked at her curiously, the back of his neck heating up. “You’re tall and skinny. Like a Capitol model. And you’ve got really nice blue eyes. And your skin… Even your makeup is perfect.”

“Mei-Ling is right, Adrian.” The Tributes turned to see Maxima walking out of the closet, cleaning off her hands with a handkerchief, a proud, shiny grin on her face. “I’m certain the Capitol won’t be able to tell exactly what you are.” An even bigger smile. “Aren’t you two glad you have such amazing stylists?”

Mei-Ling nodded excitedly. “Yes! Thank you so much Maxima, for giving me a chance to look this nice at least once in my life…”

“You’re such a cutie, Mei. Don’t get all sentimental on me though!” the older woman chuckled. Patting Mei-Ling on the head, she gave the girl a glance over and nodded approvingly. “You really don’t have to worry. Looking like that, I’m sure you’ll get lucky with the sponsors. But now we have to get you to the Ceremonial Hall on level eight. Come now. They’re all waiting for you.”

The elevator ride to level eight was much longer than the one in the beginning when they’d just arrived. According to Maxima level eight was on a much higher plane than the first seven levels as it was even more massive than level nine or ten, holding not only the Ceremonial Hall but also the Tributes’ suites, the training rooms, and the arena. 

Adrian considered this information, his hand on his chin. The Tributes’ suites were twelve floors, with one ground level. This would probably take up the space of one level all on its own. Judging by how big the arena was all the other years, then it would be the size of maybe one level. And Maxima said the Ceremonial Hall was purposely built with a high reaching roof, so high it reached the clouds, so that was a level or two all on its own. Adrian concluded that the eight level must be as big as a combination of at least three levels to hold such big structures. Another conclusion was that the eighth level must be extremely important to the Capitol.

Standing offside in a rest area while the Chariots were prepared for their run in the Main Hall, Adrian let his eyes wander above him. What Maxima said was true. It was so high he could barely see the ceiling, the bright lights obscuring his view of the metal works.

“You have that l-look on your f-face” he heard Mei-Ling say. He regarded her with a quick blink of his eyes. “You’re thinking about s-something.”

A sigh. “I’m just trying to figure out the relative size of level eight. Levels one through seven were small, but level eight is massive, a behemoth compared to the babies that are the other levels.”

“S-so?” She cocked her head to the side. “Why’s that important?”

“I’m trying to accurately estimate how many people are going to be right there to see us in the flesh. Why else would I take the time to piece all this information together?”

A strangled noise escaped the brunette’s lips, now quivering, and she hid her face with her hands, cheeks stained red underneath. “Th-th-that’s a l-l-lot!” A small whine came out. “I s-suddenly don’t f-feel s-so good…” She laid against the wall, knees shaking.

Adrian rolled his eyes. “It’s nothing to be afraid of. Would you run away from a blade of grass?”

She shook her head, even though she didn’t really mean it. It was hard to think like Adrian. Thinking of all the people, their wide eyes and stretched out jaws and colorfully decorated costumes, her stomach churned. “I d-don’t want t-to ride on the Chariot anymore” she muttered. Just as she said this, Maxima appeared behind the curtains.

“What was that?” She stormed over and pinched Mei-Ling’s ear. “Mei! We worked so hard on your costumes. It’s such a shame that you don’t appreciate them more.” Another pinch to the ear, this time hard enough to make the skin red.

A little squeak escaped out of her as she ducked out of the older woman’s way. “No that’s not true!” Steam loudly whistled out of her hat. “I love it, I really do!” Like a mouse she was quick, scurrying away from their stylist’s grabby hands and hopping through the sea of Tributes. Objections and complaints rose of out the crowd, Mei-Ling bumping into and shoving other Tributes out of the way. She was squealing with laughter, Maxima chasing after her with a big grin on her face.

“Come back here Mei! I’m tickling the anxiety out of you!”

“Help! Someone help!” she exclaimed. Other female Tributes giggled and joined in the chasing (though now it could be called playing), particularly a small dark-skinned one who sprinted frighteningly fast, and a bigger blonde with shiny blue eyes. The first district Tribute just shook her head, readjusting her rumpled dress. Maxima had long since lost the energy to chase after the younger female, but left her to play with the other Tributes while she stood by Adrian, who only vaguely paid attention. Finally Mei-Ling stopped running, all her energy drained from the exercise, and she flopped onto a red, plush couch, a sigh leaving her lips like the steam left her hat. 

Adrian’s ear twitched, a high-pitched voice trickling into his ear from where his female companion was sitting. In the corner of his eye he saw the young District Two female Tribute, the fast one, bouncing around Mei-Ling. It was no surprise that all that chasing hadn’t tired her out. Under her bright dress her thighs didn’t jiggle, instead muscle rippled beneath the skin. Adrian turned his head in interest. Her small size was a good mask that hid her strength and stamina. He made the mental note to watch out for her during the Games.

Blonde curls and a big bust danced by him, blocking his vision of Mei-Ling and the District Two Tribute. He blinked and found intense blue eyes staring back at him.

“Hi there!” she said. Her cheeks glowed pink and her fingers flexed, almost like they were wrapped around an imaginary person’s neck. “Your name’s Adrian, right?”

“Yes, that is my name” he responds bluntly. Her face scrunches up but she doesn’t say anything further, just skips off to stand beside another male Tribute. They talk with their heads close together and their hands on each other’s’ shoulders, eyes making no effort to stay inconspicuous as they fixated on him. “How odd” he muses to himself. Beside him Maxima grips his arm, and she gives Adrian a suspicious look. Wariness crept up his back but he says nothing. It wasn’t just her relationship with the other blond that was unsettling, it was her behavior from before as well. She’d been enjoying herself almost perversely in the chase. She too needed to be paid special attention.

A voice crackled over the intercom, big and booming, interrupting everyone’s conversations and catching their immediate attention. “Attention Tributes, please make your way over to the Main Hall entrance. Please make your way over to the Main Hall entrance. The Opening Ceremonies are about to begin.”

Maxima looked up at the intercom and then back at Adrian. She grinned, doing a little hop. “It’s show time!”

Mei-Ling hopped over to stand in line with them. She smiled at Adrian and held onto their stylist’s arm. “That girl’s name is Ivy. She s-seems nice” she says, a thoughtful spark in her eyes. 

Adrian cocks his head at her and gives her a skeptical look. “Right. I wonder how nice she’ll seem when she’s snapping your neck like a twig.” 

Maxima rolls her eyes and shoves them both. “Both of you need to shut up and pretend to be friends for about five minutes. Can you do that? Okay good. Now go.”

They climb into their designated gold chariot and find a comfortable position to stand in, and then they’re off, the monstrous white horses tugging them along at a moderate pace. Adrian didn’t even get to fully appreciate the design of the chariot. He’d have to take a look at it later through reruns. In the corner of his eye he sees Mei-Ling adjust her hat at the last moment, and then they’re finally revealed to the whole of the Capitol.

Adrian’s guess about the size of the Ceremonial Hall was right of course, but he’d severely misjudged how violently his heart would pound against his chest at the sight of the crowd. And here he thought he’d thoroughly convinced himself that at the end of the day this was just a big hall with lots of people in it. Nothing to be afraid of, and all that jazz. However… what he was looking at was not a mass of people, but a blur of colors and black eyes and spindly, grabby fingers. Like shadows they reached out with their long arms coming together as branches of a sequoia tree, their fake painted nails and dangling jewelry the leaves that sucked all the life out of the air and left a poisonous miasma in their wake.

His grip on the cold metal was so tight his knuckles turned white. Mei-Ling noticed and placed a tentative hand over his. “Are you o-okay, Adrian?” she asks. He pulls away from her and stares off ahead, swallowing down bile. A series of deep breaths calmed his nerves. He did not need gross human contact for comfort.

Camera lights flashed from one side, blinding Adrian, and he squinted to keep from getting a headache. He could only imagine what kinds of things viewers at home were seeing. Was his father seeing this? Adrian snorted at the thought of his father skipping work for one whole hour to watch the Opening Ceremonies. It was more likely his friends were watching right now. Work generally came to a standstill during the pre-Games; it was treated like a holiday. What did Aaron and Sophie see when they looked at him? Maybe Sophie was jealous of his dress and stockings. Maybe Aaron thought Mei-Ling looked weird. She sort of did, standing there in a masculine outfit with an effeminate pose. She couldn’t act to save her life. The Games would be tough. A small smile crossed Adrian’s lips. Aaron was more likely looking at all the pretty girls in bright colors, though Adrian couldn’t understand why anyone would consider these people pretty, dressed up ridiculously like gladiators or farmers or… the moon and sun? Gosh, he and Mei-Ling were the most normal looking of the bunch. Even if that was boring by Capitol standards, he thought minimalistic was attractive. Maxima really deserved a hug.

Colorful images up above caught his attention. He turned his head to the long projection screens above them that projected every Tribute’s face. On one side it was the females, on the other, the males. His face popped up on the screen, expressionless and pale, and for a second he was pleased at how the glittery makeup made his eyes the highlight of his face and really made him look like a doll, but that thought shattered the illusion and made his gut churn. A doll, just like those in the Capitol. Fake, not real, a perfect puppet to be controlled by the President.

Would he become a part of the masses, of that giant tree of shadows?

Their chariot came to a stop, joining the circle of other chariots around the President’s podium. Adrian watched with wide eyes as the President walked up to the microphone. President Aelius, also known as Commander Aelius, was a battle-hardened, highly decorated, man of steel. According to history books, when their continent descended into chaos and nuclear war seventy years ago, it was one man who took charge and brought order to the eastern world. He’d studied the Rebellion in North America and figured where Coriolanus Snow went wrong, then established the mighty empire of Panem. It stretched over all of Europe, the Middle East, and Asia, and even went as far as North Africa. He was elected to power sixty-five years ago when the last District fell, however it was a few years later that Panem realized its mistake in electing him when that very same District attempted to separate and the Uprising happened. His presence demanded respect. A heartless bastard, but a genius nonetheless. Adrian admired him as much as he feared him.

The minute his finger touched the amplifying device a hush fell over the hall. He cleared his throat. “Welcome! Tributes, we welcome you.” He let the echo die down before continuing. “We salute your courage and your sacrifice, and we wish you a Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be _ever_ in your favor.” It wasn’t much of a speech, but it was enough for the Capitol apparently, as their screaming and cheering rose to an intense level, much higher than before.

The horses pulled back and trotted to the Main Hall where all the stylists and mentors were waiting. They weren’t out of the chariot for even two seconds before their mentor and manager pounced on them. Cathrin and Toril picked the Tributes up and spun them around. “You two looked amazing!” the redhead exclaims as they hop around in their excitement. 

Their mentor kisses Mei-Ling on both cheeks before putting her down again. The younger girl stands there, dazed, face deep red. Toril chuckles and sets down Adrian as well, who was looking a little green-faced at all the manhandling. “I agree. You two looked fabulous” Cathrin says. “I especially like the color scheme. Very military chic. I’m sure you caught the President’s attention.”

Their stylist’s laughing caught the group’s attention. Maxima stood off around the elevators with the other four stylists, and was in the middle of high-fiving them and hugging them when she looked over to see her creations. “You guys were great!” she called out, running over and wrapping her arms tightly around Mei-Ling. “Oh Mei did you see yourself? You and your pink cheeks and smooth features! Beautiful! Absolutely wonderful!” 

Behind her the tallest of the bunch cleared his throat. “Um, Maxima…”

“Oh right.” She cleared her throat and pulled away, dusting herself off back into professionalism. “We’re done here. Now let’s get to the suites. I’m famished!”

“The… s-suites?” Mei-Ling pipes up.

“Oh Mei, you’ll love it!” one of the other stylists butts in. Her pink hair bounces along with the rest of her.

“Oh yes!” Toril nods. “It’s where all the Tributes get to stay for the duration of the pre-Games. For the next two weeks you’re going to live like royalty! It’s gonna be great, just you see. Oh, the service is great. It comes with your very own Avoxes! And then there’s the bedding, and the–”

“Get on with it” Adrian drawls.

Cathrin laughs and gives Maxima and Toril a little shove. “Adrian’s right. Let’s get a move on.”


End file.
